Shootin' for Summer
by mistyhollows
Summary: Nineteen-year-old Evelyn Minnie Mundy is the "Sniper's Kid." Flesh and blood offspring of Sniper and his only lover, "Evie" has picked up many of her father's skills. When her mom dies, though, she finds a prosperous getaway from her life as a new class on the RED Team - the Pill. As friends and enemies are made and battled, Pill finds herself in tough situations...
1. Startin' Summer

**Hi everyone!**

 **I'm mistyhollows - this is my first official publication of a multitude of fan fictions I'm writing about TF2! I really just enjoy writing for fun, so if you enjoy these stories, please let me know! If you don't enjoy them, well, I'm sorry my writing isn't to your liking! Anyway, thanks for reading and hopefully enjoy it!**

 **So, if you don't catch the drift, Pill is Sniper's kid, an OC I've created. I'm sorry I can't work the fanfic page formatting everything very well right now, but hopefully it gets better. I'd appreciate any help you're willing to lend me with getting settled on this site. lol... thnx.**

 **xoxo - misty**

"Ah… so… _you're_ the Sniper's kid," Spy spit at me. He rolled his cigarette around in his teeth while looking at me, up and down and up again. "A bit puny, in my opinion." He promptly turned his nose up to me.

I frowned at the statement, but the Frenchman's disapproval brought my spirits down. I didn't imagine the team would take kindly to a young girl coming to stay with the team for the summer, but I had to get my bearings together since my mom died. Hopping between friends' houses was fine for the end of the school year, but I needed a semi-permanent abode for the summer.

"For now," Demoman piped up, slurring in his drunken-ness. "I'm sure we'll…" he paused for a hiccup, "will change that before too long!" He chuckled to himself, walking out of the dining room.

My dad didn't say much. He never did. Australian outback-born, he didn't have much to say, especially while he was eating his breakfast and reading his paper, the rare occasion that he took part in inside the base today instead of his camper, just so I could meet his coworkers.

"Don't listen to 'em, Pill," Sniper said casually, flipping the page of his newspaper. I looked back at him and cocked my head a bit, then shrugged. Pill was the class I was supposed to master. It involved running fast, sniping, and healing. My purpose was the make the other team angry enough to surrender — rage quitting, if you would — as many games as possible.

'Course, now, I was weak.

"I'll bet she can't even run'a mile!" a Bostonian accent sounded behind me, scoffingly. I looked down at my hands, empty. I'd finished my toast. I wished I had something to toy with. For the 30 minutes I'd started meeting the team, they just criticized me for being so… short.

"Enough, Scout," my dad sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. "'Ey, bring me that pot'a coffee, shrimp."

The pot was set before him, and I felt the Scout's eyes on me, burning into my skin as my face grew hot, looking down at my hands.

"Nervous, princess?"

I glared up at him. No one but my dad was allowed to call me that.

"Enough, Scout," Sniper warned again.

"If I were dat puny, I'd be terrified—" Scout blabbered on and on, smirking at me the whole time.

"Scout, I said, ENOUGH!" My dad snapped, standing up, the chair falling behind him. He reached forward and grabbed Scout by the collar of his shirt and pushed him backwards. "Now git'outta my soight," Sniper growled, flinging the Scout out of the dining room threshold.

"Ayy!" Scout exclaimed, stumbling backwards. "Okokokokokokokokokokokokokokokok okokokokok," he said quickly, scrambling out of Sniper's line of view.

"I guess there's no friendly fire tolerated," I stated bluntly, a hint of sadness edging my tone as I looked back down at my lap.

Sniper chuckled. "Noice try."


	2. Gearin' Up

"Two more, you can do it!" Heavy boomed, encouraging me as I bench-pressed the weights on top of me. My first day at the RED base and I was lifting weights like no one's business. I only took a few breaks for water, and I was on my last set of bench-pressings.

I took a breath in and held it, pushing the weights up, then brought them back down, exhaled, breathed in, and pushed them up again. Back down, then I rested the weights on their rest. Breathing heavily, I looked at the heavy-weapons guy, my hand out, silently asking him to hand me my water bottle. He handed me the plastic red bottle, and I chugged at least half of the bottle.

"You did well," Heavy boomed again, his hearty laugh filling the small room as he looked at me.

I worked out a lot back home. I was short and curvy, but I was built strong. Sturdy and square, that's how my dad described it. My nightmare was the treadmill, knowing I'd have to do seven miles in less than ten minutes on day, like the Scout. It was a good goal to work for, but realizing how exhausted I was after the first half-mile, I regretted ever agreeing to join the team for the summer.

"Y'okay?" A familiar voice rung out to the right of me. At the door, my dad leaned into the doorway, smiling over at me. "'Ow's she doin', Heavy?"

"She does well," Heavy stated. "She needs to run more. More sandviches."

"God, no," I muttered, letting my chest heave up and down as I laid on my back, still on the contraption. "Dad, when are we shooting?"

"In an hour or so," Sniper replied. "Ya better start gettin' ready, Heavy. Battle's on soon."

"Da!" Heavy agreed, exiting the weight room.

"Dad," I moaned, rolling over and standing up slowly, "I'm broken."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go get yo'r gun," Sniper chuckled, rubbing my back as he gently nudged me towards the door. "You hangin' with me?"

"Not like I'm gonna be able to keep up with Scout," I reasoned, "or lift like Heavy, or even be brave like Medic, and Spy would consider me unnecessary baggage, considering I can't cloak."

"Ya could station yo'self with Engineer."

"I don't want to go to Respawn, dad."

"Everyone does. It's not a big deal, sheila."

"Yeah, but.."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

"Anyway, if I'm sniping, I should probably come with you to figure out where the best spots are, right?"

"Yeh."

We walked to his camper — the sweet summer breeze was cool on our faces as we trudged the short walt to the RV. We were on an intense map — Borneo. Apparently it wasn't often to get a breeze — Maybe I had brought the good luck.

"Aight… you can use… t'day.." He pulled out a variety of sniper-weapons. "Uh… Hitman's Heatmaker, Machina, Classic, hHuntsman, Sydney Sleeper…"

"What's the Sydney?" I asked, poking the small fathers at the end of the barrel.

"Piss-rifle," Sniper replied bluntly.

I nodded. He was very polite and professional, throwing and shooting his own piss at everyone…. Apparently, you couldn't even get a decent headshot with one of those guns.

"Let me use your Machina today, dad."

"Aight. Secondary weapons… You can get replenishment of health, a shield for backstabs, a gun, jarate jar…"

"Jarate?"

"Again, Pill, pay attention, it's _piss_." He seemed jolly, but it seemed spiteful. He looked tired.

"Oh. I guess I'll take a pistol and knife," I said slowly, eyeing over the arsenal.

"Y'got yer own pistol? I never use one."

I nodded, patting the pouch on my belt that held my handgun, fully loaded… That was the gun he'd sent me for my 17th birthday nearly 2 years ago. It was pink camo with my real name in gold lettering. Two years before my mom died.

That's how I began calculating time — before and after my mom died. Mom's death impacted me in ways I never thought was possible. My aunt and uncle, my dad's brother and his wife, had to take over the household. They didn't kick me out, but they allowed me to seek my own comfort by staying with my friends and their sympathetic parents. I hardly ever went out anymore — my friends practically had to drag me out to go shopping with them, which was pointless because I never had money. Even when they bought me items, I regretted letting them buy me anything at all.

Dad would wire money over to me and of course my aunt and uncle were well-off and would've bought me anything I wanted, but I didn't want to use them like that. Uncle Mark and Aunt Kelly didn't deserve to be walked over. I wasn't the type, either.

I always kept the gun with me. Hidden, of course — it was illegal to have it on me literally everywhere I went, but that never stopped me. I slipped into daydreaming when I felt my dad nudge my shoulder.

"Anyone home?"

"What?" I startled.

"I asked whot dagger ye'd loike."

"Oh," I breathed out, looking over the arrangement of seven distinctly different daggers. "Level one Kukri should be fit for me… I don't what all these fancy things are," I said quietly, lifting up his kukri by the hilt, still cloaked in its sheath.

He nodded, pulling out his own weapons for himself. "Let's get some shootin' done."


	3. Frustration

Stationed up in a lofty wooden tower, the sun beat down mercilessly. Though we still had the roof of the tower to shield us, the air was thin and almost too dry to breathe.

On the RED team, Sniper was always defending. He seldom came down from his well-placed tower because he could practically see the entire region from it, and the scope on his gun allowed him to zoom in even farther. It was safe enough until the BLUs saw us, which probably wouldn't take long considering I was using the Machina.

We waited, eyes to scopes, as the Administrator's voice counted down on the speakers. I had my light set directly on the forehead of the enemy Heavy, which would be easy to keep considering he moved slowly. I smirked to myself.

As if my father could sense it, he quietly growled to me, "Don't get cocky, now. Scout gets all cocky n' then he dies. Probably most often of the team."

I _'pfft'_ d. "He's one player I don't have to worry about, dad."

As the gates opened, I got my perfect shot on the Heavy. Only the enemy Medic seemed worried, since he popped his Über right after I hit the fatass.

"Good shot, but now we gotta get ready to move," Sniper said casually, reloading his gun.

"Who's watching for Spies?" I asked, taking aim on the BLU Medic, as well. A shot in his shoulder, but it must've pierced his heart, because he went down and was sent to Respawn.

Sniper looked at his watch. "One should be showin' up right about…. now…"

"How do you always know?!" The BLU Spy exclaimed, stomping his foot in frustration.

I whipped around, horrified. My dad merely turned me back to the game and engaged in conversation with the Spy.

"Iz this your daughter?" The French Fry asked.

"Yeh. Betta watch out, she don't know you're friendly."

"Only to you," The Spy replied quickly. "I will graciously accept a headshot from your daughter any day. You did a lot for me. It iz only fair."

Sniper waved his statement away. "Was nothin.' Do Pill a favor, though. Go stab our Scout a couple'a toimes, will ya?"

"But of course," the Spy replied, cloaking quickly and rushing down the ladder of our tower.

"Does he ever kill you?" I asked my dad, missing my shot on the Blu Scout.

"'Course," Sniper replied. "I let 'im kill me a few tomes 'cus 'e was gonna get kicked off for not makin' as many kills 'cus 'e was talkin' to me. 'E doesn't visit very often now, mainly just stabs, but we enjoy talkin'. I used to tell 'im all tha' tome about ye and yer mum."

"How do you trust him?" I asked, reloading.

"I don't. 'E jus' listens though. An' when 'e got somethin' t'say, it's not loike I'm gonna go blabbering t'the crew to tell 'em I've been conversing wit'tha enemy Spoi, now am I? Same for 'im."

"Ah." I understood. Sniper had kept him his job, and in return he doesn't backstab the Sniper too often to be fishy.

"'E always apologizes," Sniper said quietly.

I nodded. Sometimes I felt like I was as quiet as my father.

Through my scope, I saw the RED Scout running around, waving to me. "'How's the view, _Princess_?" He shouted. I lowered my gun, glaring at the small red flash in frustration.

"Asshole… Now we really gotta move, dad," I warned, tugging at his shirt. "Scout's givin' us away."

"I'm stayin' 'ere," My dad said. "You're a big girl, you can 'old your own, roight?"

I nodded, slinging my gun into its bag and quickly making my way down the ladder, looking out and listening for the sounds of the BLU team pushing the bomb.

Quickly, I slinked across the wasteland towards the other wooden buildings for another lookout point. None of them were going to be as good as the one Sniper was at, but I found a substitute easily. I climbed the many stairs and plopped myself down on a wooden crate, taking my baseball cap off and fanning myself with the bill. The room was small and cramped, barely able to fit me, but it was easy to hide in so other soldiers wouldn't suspect I was hunkered down here. Furthermore, there wasn't an open window — just a few boards nailed up together with a slight parting for a place to see from.

 _Perrrfffeeecccttt._

I placed the barrel of my gun between the slit in the boards and took aim. Machina, considering the trail of red smoke it left in the direction of its shooter, was an awful gun to use for this… But I mean… it was fine, right?

"What'cha doin' up he'ya, sweet cheeks?"

I drew my kukri out from its sheath and spun around, recognizing the Bostonian voice immediately. "How did you find me?!" I demanded.

"I followed ya."

"Get out of my sight!" I hollered, aiming my dagger towards him. "Despite the 'no friendly-fire' rule imposed on this team, I will not hesitate to plunge this thing right down your God-forsaken throat if you mutter another pet name for me in my presence, _got it?!"_

"Jeez," he held up his hands in defense as I touched the tip of the blade to his chin, "alright, alright, I'm out, daisies!" He took off.

I stepped a few steps froward and swung my blade at him. "ARGGG!" I shouted in frustration, "Don't talk to me ever again, you PANSY!" I shouted.

"ALLLLRRRIIGHT SISTER, GET OUT HERE, SCUM!" Soldier bellowed, as I imagined he saw Scout running out to greet him.

The entire rest of the match, Scout kept getting in the way of my shooting, killing my targets before I got to it. It became a race, and I knew that if I wanted to make a decent score next time, I'd have to be faster than him and make him the _second_ fastest member of the team.

"Ay, ya didn't do too bad!" My dad exclaimed heartily, clapping me on the shoulder. I, in disgust, gaped at my score. It of course was at the bottom, but I knew it couldn't have been that low.

"I could've shot the Scout and gotten another point," I mumbled under my breath. My father lightly slapped me on the back of my head.

"Watch yerself, sheila. Y'dont wanna go 'round makin' enemies, now."

"Yeah, yeah," I retorted bitterly.

The rest of the day followed with me practicing my shooting in the range and working out with Heavy — a soon-to-be usual for me. In spite of my low score, I was the only member who didn't get sent to Respawn that day. I considered that a blessing, but also envied the knowledge of what Respawn was like.

I sat at the dining table, cleaning the Machina, when Scout sauntered into the dining room. I let out a subtle growl as he swaggered behind me, feeling his eyes on my work.

"Ya missed a spot," he said right by my ear.

I let the gun pieces fall to the table. "Get out," I warned, tracing my finger over the pieces.

"No, really, right der—"

"Scout, I'm warning you, I can stand my own—"

"Just look it's not shiny!"

"SHUT UP!" I shouted, looking up at him. I had the bellowing voice of Medic with the looks of a gerbil. Scout merely laughed at me, patting my head.

"OH, hey, you're funny, actin' all angry, it's really cute!" He said, very giddy, gloating… as if he were trying to push my buttons.

Then I pushed him. I moved both hands to his chest and shoved him backwards, hard, right into the Spy behind him.

"Watch where you're going!" The Spy sneered, dodging the Scout as much as he could.

"Woah, woah, woah der, Pilly, what's the big idea?!"

"Scout!" The Spy sighed, turning to face him. "Are you really that stupid? Leave her alone! She doesn't want to be teased all the time!"

"Oh," Scout said, his face falling as he looked back at me, "Ya could'a jus' said somethin'…"

Spy waved him away. "Go away. She obviously doesn't want to look at your repulsive face."

I sneered at Scout as he turned away, still swaggering. Nothing phased him. It made me sick to my stomach, but I held it in, counting to ten before returning to cleaning. Needless to say, I finished quickly, thanked Spy for his help, re-assembled my gun, and left quickly, running out to my father's RV.

Sniper apparently often resided in his lodge, sipping coffee be himself and smoking, usually reading anything he could get his hands on. For being an outdoorsy guy, he sure loved to read.

"Dad!" I shouted, stomping into the van with tears in my eyes. "Please just let me kill the Scout once! Just once, dad! I swear I'll be content!" I flounced towards him, flinging my arms around his shoulders and heaving as I sobbed.

"Aye… Evie, wot's wrong now? Wot's 'e done?"

"He started harassing me while I was cleaning your gun, Dad, and today on the battlefield he busted in on my sniping and kept getting in the way and keeps calling me these stupid pet names and I've told him to stop and he _doesn't_! I don't know what to do!" I shouted through the tears. "I've tried being nice!"

"I know, I know," Sniper acknowledged, patting down my hair. ""ere's wot'cha gotta do…"


	4. I'm Sorry

The next week, I prepared myself for talking to Scout ever again. I shot daggers whenever I looked at him, I trained endlessly to become a better pill of a shot than I already was, and I let all the niceness towards him drain from my body. I could be ruthless — I was going to be ruthless.

"Why don't'cha just knock him up in his head one day?" Engie asked one day as I furiously sprinted on the treadmill.

"Because I want to humiliate him," I explained, "in more than one way. Yeah, sure, it might start with me beating him up, but he has to touch me first. I don't start fights, I end them."

"Hmph," Engie huffed. "What if he never touches you?"

"Then my dad takes him out back and beats the living hell out of him if he keeps calling me those stupid names."

"Why don't you just ignore him?"

"He gets to me, Engie. I've tried ignoring him. It only eggs him on, just like not ignoring it eggs it on."

"But if ya ignore him long enough, he'll lose interest, surely."

"I guess you're right, but I also have to be ready in case he does decide to lay a hand on me." I tapped a button on the treadmill and made it begin to slow down. "I would like the guy if he didn't call me names or make fun of me so often," I reasoned, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

"He likes you, too," Engie stated. "He likes a fight."

"He's not the only one," I muttered under my breath. If Scout wanted a fight, then I'd give him one.

I suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder on many occasions. Typically, I'd wake up screaming my head off, imagining the night of my mom's death by burglary again, or the time I was almost raped, or, now, the battlefield I faced everyday. Or, sometimes, I'd just have nightmares. Those were just traumatic stress.

I was grateful for the team every night I'd had an episode — at least twice a week. Since my dad always slept in his camper (for similar reasons), I was left to fend for myself often times. The first few nights, the entire team trampled into my room with weapons in their pajamas, ready to fight off any intruder. They seemed a little discouraged and even a tad frustrated when they realized it was just a dream I'd had, but, nonetheless, they didn't harangue on me about it. As it grew to be more customary, though, fewer teammates showed up in my bed, if they ever stirred at all.

Scout always came, though, with Engie. While Engie would rub my back, Scout would fix me a cup of hot tea and I'd down it gratefully and slowly drift back to sleep.

I guess Scout knew never to bring up my episodes after I explained to him.

"Hey, Pill, w-what happened last night?"

"I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder due to the immense amounts of shit that's been piled on in my life since I was a small child, and if you have something to say about it, say it now, blockhead," I retorted without stammering. He nodded, blushed, and went about on his day. Yes, ladies and gents, I made him blush.

I spent the night with my dad every once in awhile, snuggling up in a sleeping bag on one side of his bed while he snored on the other. I realized his episodes were much worse than mine, and it was very difficult to get him to calm down again and drift back to sleep. I guessed that was why the team disregarded my PTSD Episodes quicker than any babysitter I'd ever spent time with. I was just Sniper's daughter, doin' the Sniper thing.

I sat in the battlefield again, halfway through the summer. Still. In. Fucking. Borneo. I was sick of the wasteland, sick of the retarded BLU team, but my sickness towards Scout was easing up. He became OKAY company when my dad could handle the Sniping and Heavy, Soldier, and Demo were spawn camping.

In a different tower than my father's, I took aim at the BLU Scout.

" _Perfect_ ," I chuckled to myself, beginning to press back the trigger.

"Hey der, Pill," Scout mused from the back of the room.

I flinched, losing my target, and shot in vain at the Medic trying to heal behind him. I hit Medic's neck and he collapsed.

"Damnit, Scout!" I exclaimed, turning to look at him. "What's your problem? Can't you see I'm trying to make a few points for once?"

He laughed to himself, sauntering in. "Sorry, Pill. Anything new?"

"You saw me at breakfast." I refrained from yelling, but I hardly took a pleasant tone with the Boston Basher on the battlefield.

"Anything change?"

I rolled my eyes and attempted to take aim again. "Nope. What about you?"

"I bagged the Spy today!" Scout stated proudly.

"Good job." I kept quiet about the Spy's relations with my Dad. "I bagged the world's fattest man."

"Ol' Blu Fatso? He ain't so hard, but I guess that's comin' from'a pro like me, ey?"

"Mmmmhhhmmmmm," I hummed, not listening as I bagged the Demoman. _Idiot_ … Our Demoman was at least smart. Then I quickly bagged the low-health Soldier. Easy peasy.

"So, uh, Pill," Scout started, rather awkwardly-sounding. "Y'got any plans fer ya day off?"

I smirked, turning back to look at him. "No, why? Got a hot date you need advice for?"

"No," Scout laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "was wonderin' if ya wanted to go into the city wit me."

"As long as I can sleep in, sure," I agreed. "Ya gotta tell my dad first, though."

His face fell, his cheeks burning a bright red. "Oh, I uh, already asked him. Actually, I asked him a few weeks ago. He jus' said I gotta watch what I say t'not trigger ya."

I shrugged, looking back at my scope. "Sure. I mean, we haven't fought in awhile. It should be fun, right?"

"Yeah! Totally! Uh… I'll talk to you after dis match then, okay?" He shifted his weight uncomfortably, looking around.

"Okay." I held my gun up and took aim.

"Bye."

"Adios, Scout-o."

Scout took off down the ladder and out to the battle grounds, doing what Scout did best — running. I loved watching the way his body moved. My mom, an artist and nurse, used to constantly point out how muscles worked and we would people-watch and comment on their movements. Weird, but that's how we grew close.

I felt like my mom would've liked Scout. She would've clicked — talkative, funny, worked out as much as she could, etc, etc. I liked Scout enough, I suppose, since he started showing me some respect. I never once hit him. I imagined my dad did, though, considering the day Scout woke up late and complained he was "sore from the night before." None of us questioned it.

"Scout, move," I muttered, trying to mentally force Scout away from the Heavy so I could shoot him. My bullet whizzed past Scout's ear and nailed the Heavy in the middle of his neck. I noticed Scout snap his head towards me, then realizing I was supposed to stay hidden, he took off again.

"I'm sorry, Pill," a French accent echoed behind me.

I stood up quickly, whipping around to face the BLU Spy. "What, Spy?" I asked, trigger-fingers tingling.

"I'm sorry… but I 'ave to do zhis.."

He raised his gun.

"SPY, NO!" I shrieked, hands dropping the Machina and reaching for my SMG.

He looked away, then pulled the trigger.

Darkness. I always saw darkness because I closed my eyes. The others said that if you kept your eyes open, you'd see what another member of the team was doing. I didn't want to seem my teammates die, even if they were to return.

Then brightness. Behold! I arrived back in Respawn good as new, but shivering, just like every other time. I always felt like the air would be getting squeezed out of me when I was recuperating in Respawn. I hated it. My dad said, though, that if I relax, it'd be easier.

I never relaxed, though, so I always had a tough time. I could relax around people. Being resurrected? I could never be comfortable with that, I thought.

Eyes wide, I scanned the white room, clutching my gun to my chest again, breathing heavily.

"Y'alright, Pill?" The Boston Boy asked, nudging my shoulder.

I nodded slightly, then began to walk out. It wasn't dying that scared me — it was what the Spy had said.

 _I'm sorry, I have to do this._

The phrase sent shivers down my back as I remembered.

"Ya sure?" Scout asked, tapping me on the shoulder with his wooden bat. "Ya look like ya seen a ghost or somethin'."

I bit my tongue and merely nodded towards Scout, forcing a grin as we took off down to the battlements again. I darted along the railroad with Scout, pistol in hand and Machina in my bag on my back, strapped tightly to my torso. Hopefully, the Spy wouldn't get me while I was running around with Scout.

I refused to return to a tower alone. When I got tired of chasing around BLUs with Scout, I retreated to my father, who rose an eyebrow in surprise.

"Gettin' annoyed with your best friend already?"

Heh. Scout practically was my best friend here by now. We were at the ages where that would've be acceptable, at least. "Just needed to talk. Something weird happened."

"Well. Should probably wait 'till the end of the match. It's just a couple'a mo' minutes, love. That okay?"

"Yeah," I agreed, taking up my Machina. "That's fine."

"Great. I'm on a kill streak of eighteen."

"Jeez, dad. My best all summer has been four."

"That's pret'y good, though! Sucking at something is the first step to bein' good at somethin'!"

"That's what Scout says, dad."

"That's 'oo I got it from, smarty."

"Ah." I nodded, missing my shot on the enemy Scout. I didn't care, though. I had my eyes looking out for the Spy, and I'd just seen him cloak… I wasn't ending this match without my bullet through his head. "Where's the fucking Spook?" I mumbled.

"Why d'ya wanna kill'im?" My dad asked, snorting a bit.

"I'll explain when the match ends. You might want to kill that Medic, dad."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it…"

Aha! The Spy uncloaked and had his knife ready to take out our beloved Pyromaniac. Fully charged within a few seconds, I blasted his head off before he could even utter his famous phrase, _"Merde."_

"Noice," Sniper acknowledged my shot, "beautiful hit."

"Thank you," I said quietly, still growling. I had my revenge — I should've been happy. I shouldn't have wanted him dead again.

But I did. I wanted so badly to murder that untrustworthy Spy again, and a million times over. I'd send him to Respawn more times than he could comprehend, if I had the time. Sad part was, I didn't have time. The timer went off and the Admin called us to a ceasefire before I got the chance to taunt after the BLU Spy's death.


	5. Prior to Dining

"So, what d'ya need t'say?" My dad asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

I pulled out a Coca-cola from the fridge and popped the lid open. "I was killed by that BLU Spy today, the one you trust so much. And… it was weird. He went, "I _'m sorry, but I 'ave to do zhis,_ " like he was getting paid off to kill me or guy looked like he had tears in his eyes…"

"Well, you are the Pill. People want us gone. The other team 'appens t'call yeh things like… cancer… Maybe 'e was paid off t'kill yeh, loike ya said. Whoi are ye worried?"

I shrugged, leaning against the countertop next to Sniper's fridge. "Because we made an agreement that he wouldn't kill me and here he is, showing up in my secret spots and blowing my brains out. I thought I wouldn't have to worry about him."

Sniper nodded. "Oi see… well… typically, he plans when he's going to kill me with me, weird as it sounds. Or, 'e's a different Spoi."

"But how would he know not to kill me?"

"The other might've told 'im?"

I shrugged again. "I just… you know how paranoid I get."

"Yeh."

"What should I do?"

"If ya worried about stabs, get a shield, then you'll know 'e's back there and you can blast his brain out before 'e gets t'yours. Yo'r jus' gonna 'ave t'pick up on yer dad's trapper senses." He took a long swig of his coffee.

I nodded slowly, gazes around at the skins that adorned his lair. "So you're gonna take me huntin'?" I grinned slightly at the prospect.

"Sure." He shrugged. "If thats wot it takes."

"Maybe in the fall… if you can spare a weekend," I suggested, trying to get my mind off of BLU Spy. I didn't want to go to Respawn for the rest of my life if I could help it. I was always worried that one day, it'd just mess up… The idea sent shivers down my back. I took a slow, long drink from my glass bottle, looking intently at my father.

"Maybe you can pay off our Spy t'keep the BLU off'a y'back," Sniper thought out loud, a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"Only problem with that is I'm broke," I reminded him.

He merely nodded in response, then changed the subject promptly. "Tomorra' you're goin' with Scout?" His began to bore into mine, a sly grin playing on his lips.

I found myself blushing a smidgen, then forced the heat away from my face and jutted out my chin a bit. "Yeah. Why?"

"Jus' think it's funny, that's all. Beginnin' o'tha summer, y'wanted t'kill 'im."

"Still do sometimes. But he's the closest thing I've got to a friend, at least an appropriate friend. If we dress regularly, the public would consider us appropriate. No one thinking I've got a suger daddy or somethin…"

"So what if they think that? Y'know the truth."

I sighed, taking another drink. Finishing the bottle, I tossed it into the trash. "I'd rather be in a group with the rest of 'em."

He nodded. "Wot about me?"

"You're my dad. We look alike, don't we?"

"Enough, I s'pose." He chuckled lightly, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "Y'know the boys are boozin' up tonight, right? Are y'gonna join us?"

"Haven't decided. What's on the menu?"

"Anything an' everythin'. I'm bartending."

I smirked, cracking my knuckles as I thought. "I'll decide when the time comes. I gotta head to the range."

The Range was universal (here, at least) for shooting range. I made my way to a stall, set up a couple of targets, and loaded up my gun. I never understood why I kept practicing on stand-still targets, since I bulls-eyed nearly every time, but going through the motion without any outside pressure… it was relieving.

Pyro and Engie were there as well, the only ones humble enough to actually practice their aim. They didn't need to, but I imagined it gave them some heart-to-heart time to talk. Couldn't imagine that they could hear much over the blast of my dad's Machina, though. I'd have to get a silencer for that thing…

"Gym today?" The Russian-accented man bellowed behind me.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin' tough guy," I called over my shoulder, shooting down one more target before quickly packing up to join Heavy.

"How was match?" He asked, slapping me on the shoulder. I stumbled forward. "Sorry," he said.

I laughed. "It's fine, Heavy! The match… was… weird. I need to keep an eye out for that Spy. I'm worried he's gonna try to get me when I'm not looking."

"Das what Spies do, Pill. Wait until back isn turned… then off with head."

"No kiddin'," I murmured, rubbing my neck.

Medic rushed towards us from the other end of the hallway just as we were about to step into the workout room.

"Wat is it doctor?" The Heavy asked.

"Demoman wanted to know what spirits to get for tonight, Heavy!" The Medic panted, running up to us. "Any kind at all…"

"Oh," Heavy sighed, looking down at me, then back to the doc. "Heavy wants Russian Chocolate Stout."

Medic cocked his head slightly, like his birds. "Wah..?"

Heavy face-palmed. "Jus' get bottle from my room, Doctor."

"Alright!" He beamed, then hurried off.

I frowned and looked up at the big man. "He didn't ask me…"

Heavy chuckled, pushing me through the door. "Little Pill shouldn't be drinking anyway."

I rolled my eyes, then lost myself in the exercise.

"And den…" Scout continued, pacing the floor by my head, rambling on about his latest crazy ex-girlfriend. Heavy had left the room about an hour ago, but I wasn't done making myself sweat. I wanted to be sore tomorrow. "She fuckin' stripped, I mean right der, right in d-middle of d'store. An' I was like…"

Scout for company was like a non-stop talk show on the radio. He whipped stories out of his ass like no one else. Most of them were probably made up, but I didn't mind. They were funny, the way he'd try to tell them. He was pretty bad at storytelling, but his accent and catchphrases always made me happy he was talking. I always wished I had an accent…

"I knew I couldn't bang'er right der, so I ran out of d'store, left my groceries, my everythin'. Even her. An' I never saw her aftah dat day…"

"Wait, was this a hooker?" I asked through my staggered breathing, pushing the weights up.

"Nah. Dis was a girl. Not a lady; a chick."

"Ah," I said, "wait. What does that make me?"

"Like you care," Scout scoffed.

"You're right," I agreed, "but I wanna know,"

"What kinda guys d'ya go for?" Scout asked, sitting so that his face was directly above mine, only his dog tags swinging right above my nose.

Welp. "Oh, y'know… I don't typically go for guys, I wait for them to come to me."

"Hows dat workin' out for ya?"

"Shut up."

He thought that was a riot. "Ahaha! Okay, okay, seriously though, what do y'look for in a guy as a dating prospect?"

"Uh…" I began, resting the dumbbells. "I like tall, I guess. That's not saying much. Tall, buffish, y'know… like bein' outside, don't mind animals…"

"Pill," Scout laughed, "you're a redneck."

I frowned, getting up from the bench press. "I've just never had the chance to find my type, I guess. I've always been so busy."

He smirked, scratching the side of his nose with his finger. "Ey, not like dat's a bad thing."

I glared over at him, then continued to unwrap the bandages from my hands. "Obviously it is. I haven't even been kissed before," I confessed.

He shrugged, walking over to me and unwrapping my hands for me. The skin underneath was pink and swollen and blistering, and burned when the air hit them. I really needed to invest in a pair of gloves…

"Dat looks painful," he commented. I bit my lip and nodded, clenching and unclenching my fists through gritted teeth. "Let's go get more bandages… I'm sure Doc's got some." He frowned down at the bloodying blisters. "What the hell did'ya do?"

"I don't remember. They don't hurt with the wraps on." We started to walk out of the room and down the hallway to the Medical Bay.

"Yo DOC!" Scout shouted, barging into the Medibay.

The Medical Man was no where to be found in his lab, but we knew the wraps were in the first aid kit on the wall, anyway.

"Here I'll get 'em, dey're a little high for ya."

I sneered at his comment, but waited patiently as he brought the bandages down.

"Hold out ya hands."

I held my hands out to him, palm up, as he began wrapping them, the same way he wrapped his. He was slow and gentle, careful to wrap them neatly. It was the neatest I'd ever seen him be, and..he was shaking…

"When… when did dese get here?" He asked quietly, grabbing my right wrist once my hands were wrapped to the wrist and stroking his thumb over four slash marks on my wrist, clean and precise, like my kills. Fading, too. The cuts were from awhile ago.

I yanked my arm away and rubbed my forearm, looking away from him. "I don't remember," I lied.

"Pill—"

"I know, I know…" I sighed, pulling my cap off and letting my hair down, itching a spot on my head before returning my cap. "I don't remember each actual scenario, but I remember just… feeling so angry and needing to make something bleed — I was the only one I could stand to do it to. I did it to myself so I didn't do it to other people."

Scout looked like he'd been punched in the face. His face fell, his eyes watering. "Dat..dat's strength…" he commented quietly, looking at his hands.

My short hair fell at my shoulders, wavy curls bouncing. "I wasn't depressed or anything… Just needed to break something."

He sighed, then grabbed my shoulders and drew me close to him in one swift motion.

"Don't… do do dat, ever again… Next time you gotta hurt someone, you got nine other BLUs you can kill… over and over again.. Please, promise me you won't hurt yourself anymore…" He sniffed wetly, squeezing me tightly against him, clutching me to him.

I frowned, slowly moving my hands to rest on his narrow back.

"Promise me!"

"Ok, I promise," I said quietly, unsurely.

"Mean it!" Scout cried out, by now, sobbing into my hair, his back heaving with every breath.

"Scout, I promise!" I said louder, patting his back in an attempt to make him stop crying. "I'm fine, everything is fine, stop crying! There's no reason to cry! It's okay! It's okay, it's okay…" I rubbed his back slowly.

"I'm sorry," Scout said quickly, backing away from me and turning his back, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms. I jus'… I dunno.."

"Scout, it's okay." I walked behind him slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling his muscles tense underneath it. I withdrew quickly. "Just… keep this between you and me, got it?"

"Yeah," Scout acknowledged, "Just me'n you…"

I wrapped my arms around his torso, resting my face on his back. "Scout, I'm fine. I'm not crazy, I promise. Well, actually… so what if I'm crazy? My dad is, for sure. The best people are." I smirked to myself. "But it's not like I'm going to kill you because I'm crazy.."

He stayed very quiet, but patted my arms around his waist. "Thanks, real assuring."

"I try," I smirked. "C'mon, Scout. Why are you so upset?"

"Because…" He took a deep breath, "I don't wanna see you hurtin' yourself… 'cus you're my friend."

I smiled to myself again, squeezing him. "Hey, it happened awhile ago. We weren't friends then. Didn't even know you existed."

"Doesn't matter." We stayed very quiet for a long time again until he spoke again. "I jus' feel bad I wasn't der t'help ya.. There's just some things that shouldn't happen in life, and dat's one of 'em."

I squeezed him lightly again. "Thanks, tough guy." I released my grip on him and moved to stand beside him, my back against the wall under the medical kit. "Wadda'ya say we high tail it outta here for now?"

He looked so pitiful walking out, I just wanted to hold his hand or pick him up or something to just make him smile again. He looked mad when we wasn't smiling, and I didn't like the vibe he sent off. It sent shivers down my spine. I didn't understand why he was so upset still, but… it was Scout. I didn't understand him — Didn't understand a lot of people.

"Are ya boozin' tonight?" Scout asked quietly before I went into my dorm.

I stopped and turned to look at him again, thoughtfully. "Probably, if there's anything I like."

"Lemme guess, you're a tutti-frutti kinda gal?"

"Ah, so I'm a _gal_ ," I noted.

"What?"

"When we were talking about the differences between chicks, girls, ladies… I see I'm a gal, not just a redneck."

He blushed slightly, annoyed at my observation.

"I like bitter and strong, fiery and rank, classy and outback. I'll drink anything so long as it's there," I returned to the subject at hand. "Try everything once, that's my motto."

He grinned again. It was good to see that buck-tooth smile come back to light up his face.

"Wanna come in?" I asked, opening my door for him.

"Ah, no… I'd better get changed."

"Again?" I asked. He was already in black joggers and a green hoodie.

"Uh, yes," he stated hesitantly, eyes wide as he looked at his outfit again.

I nodded once. "Mmk. See you at dinner."

"Yeah." He gave a half-wave as I closed my door, throwing off my clothes to stand ass-naked in the center of my room. I slipped on a pair of lacy black underwear, a present from my mom for my whatever birthday, and matched it with a lacy black bra. Not like I was gonna get any action tonight with anyone, but I liked the soft feel of the lacy against my sensitive skin. It made me feel fierce. Of course, if my dad knew about it, he'd had a heart attack.

I threw on a couple more layers of deo and slipped into a pair of grey basketball shorts and a black tank top before slipping into my flipflops. I still smelled disgusting, so I layered myself with AXE body spray I'd stolen from Spy once. Spy was going to give it to Scout since Spy had received it as a present but didn't like it, so I swiped it rather obviously. I wore it all the time. I didn't particularly like smelling like an office man, but anything was better than stinking like one.

I always felt like my hair was constantly a mess. It was weirdly wavy and curly, and long. It wasn't blonde, but it wasn't brown. Ash-blonde, my mom had called it. Still, I pulled it up into a bun and clipped it to my head.

Staring at my reflection above my dresser, I noticed the scars that scattered all over my skin. Bullet-wound scars that hadn't full healed during Respawn mainly resided on the back of my shoulders, two at most. Scratches and bruises laid on my ribcage, visible because of how low the tanktop sank. Thinking I'd better but a jacket or tanktop underneath it, I touched each remaining wound, puckering my lower lip out in a pout. I'd never had perfect skin, but my dream of once being a model was now ultimately ruined, if I didn't die first.

A knock sounded at my door.

"Come in," I answered.

Scout walked in coolly, looking around my room in interest. "Nice room."

"Thanks," I said. "What's up?" I continued prodding the scars on my ribcage.

"What are you doing?" he asked, dodging my own question.

"Looking at my scars, what about you?"

"Just… wanted someone t'talk to." He flopped onto my bed. The bed frame groaned beneath him. "Wow… this thing… is real old.."

"Yep," I answered.

"What's wrong with your scars?"

"Nothing, they're just there. Do y'think I should cover 'em up?"

"You're wearing a cutoff, Pill. The side of your ribcage is s'posed to show when you wear dat. Don't you know fashion?" He scoffed.

"And you do?" I sneered.

"I know enough t'know dat a grey cutoff wit'a tank top underneath is some'ting the girls in 6th grade would wear."

I scrunched up my face, about to say something real nasty to him.

"My point is, no, don't wear dat tanktop underneath da cutoff. It looks fine as is, keep your pants on."

I rolled my eyes, turning away from the mirror finally and facing Scout. "Before you ask, I made this in sixth grade," I said.

Scout laughed, sitting up. "Sure, alright. You wanna do anytin' before dinner?"

"You gonna check to make sure your car got tires for tomorrow?" I suggested.

"Good idea." He stood up, straightening his red flannel over his skinny jeans. He looked good, not gonna lie.

He held the door open for me as we exited my room and headed down the base to the garage to find his car.

It wasn't junky, but it wasn't pristine, either. It was a big, red truck, something my dad would've bought if he didn't have the van. It definitely needed to be washed; years of dust settled onto the sides from drag-racing in the desert, I imagined.

Scout checked the tires while I checked the engine, even when he told me to wait for him.

"I know how to check a damn engine and oil level, jesus christ!" I'd exclaimed. The heat was still risen to my face as I popped open the hood and did the rounds on the innards of the metal beast. I topped off the oil (it was nearly empty for crying out loud) and checked the gas. Well, it took diesel, so that's what I gave it.

"Pill, did you give it gas?" Scout asked as I wiped off my hands.

"No."

"Okay." Scout grabbed the gasoline can and made for his vehicle

"SCOUT NO!" I screeched, "I gave it diesel like it's supposed to take, you shit!" I yanked the gas can away from him, thrusting the diesel can in his face. "This is what it takes!"

Scout laughed, a pink flush forming at his cheeks again. "I knew dat. Was jus' makin' sure you knew!"

I rolled my eyes, replacing both cans of fuel. "Sure, sure…"

I finished wiping off my hands and entered the main building again, making a beeline for the kitchen sink.

Oh, right, Engie was cooking for dinner. It smelled amazing — a turkey soup with grilled cheese sandwiches and, of course, BBQ ribs. Many times I'd interrupted the Texan while he was cooking and never heard the end of it, but he was away from the sink, now… Maybe if I just..

"Pill, it's not a good idea."

"Shh, he loves me," I reasoned, tiptoeing into the kitchen, trying to sneak in.

"Out, Pill. You'll mess somethin' up," Engie growled, waving his soup spoon at me.

"I just need to—"

"OUT, MISSY!"

"YESSIR!" I responded, running out quickly, careful not to knock over anything. Just as I was about to reach the door, just as I was almost free from Engie's beatings… I tripped on a potato skin and slammed down hard into the floor, face-first. "Shit!" I shouted, smacking the ground with a splat.

"Git outta here!" Engie hollered. "Git goin'!"

"Tryin.." I muttered, rolling onto my side, groaning, rubbing my nose, which had really hit the ground hard. "Ow…"

Scout hurried in to help me up, practically dragging me out of the kitchen as I saw stars all around.

"I think I need new bandages again," I muttered, hanging my head.

"No kiddin'," Scout huffed, hoisting me to stand up, one arm over his shoulders and his hand clutching my waist. "What's ya nose feel like?"

"Like I got punched by a brick wall," I retorted with a sigh. I felt the stream of blood beginning to spill down my naval.

"Medic ought'a fix you up," he said, but I could barely hear him over the ringing in my head. "Yo, doc!"

In Medic's lab, the German leered over me, eyebrow raised. "Dumpkoff," he muttered, firing up his Medigun and waiting for it warm up. "Vat ze hell vere you doing in ze kitchen?"

"She wanted t'wash her hands," Scout explained.

"Use ze bathroom next time, ja?"

I nodded, relieved when Medic pointed his gun in my direction, healing up my nose and kicking the headache out of my ringing ears while Scout replaced my hand wraps. "Thanks, Medic," I said quietly, jumping off the table as soon as he was done.

" _Ja_ , stay out of trouble."

"Yep."

"Thanks, Doc," Scout said as we left, waving brightly. "How ya feel now?"

"Fine," I said, chuckling, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "Thanks for the new wraps."

"Yeah, yeah. Well… wanna go to the cages while we're waitin'?"

"Definitely."

My dad passed us in the hallway, a smirk on his face when he saw me. Scout immediately froze and stepped to the side to let the jar man pass. I merely sidled past him.

"Your dad is scary," Scout insisted, catching up with me as we headed for the door.

"I know," I answered. "But not to me. Am I scary?"

"I mean, yeah."

I smirked, flashing my sharp canines at him. "I try."

Out at the cages, Scout sent balls flying. Fastball, slow ball, curve ball, he could hit anything. It was mesmerizing to watch. For once, he was so concentrated and determined. It was relieving to know he cared about something.

"C'mere, Pilly," he called, waving me into the cage with him.

Begrudgingly, I trudged into the batting cages, taking the wooden bat from him.

"Y'ever played baseball?"

I nodded slightly, half-shrugging. "Sorta… But hardly ever hit."

"Well today's ya lucky day!"

I groaned, stepping up to the plate and taking a stance. Scout put the machine on a slow pitch and watched me strike. I skimmed the ball just barely a few times, making a slight clap from my bat.

"It's no use, Scout. I'll never be a basher," I retorted, frustration coming over me.

"Maybe, but.. here, let's fix'ya stance.." He stood directly behind me, his chest pressed against my back, arching the same was I was, arms coming up to move my position. "Here, hold ya arms like dis.." He moved my elbows up slightly and moved my arms back to my right side a bit more, by my ear. "Alright, now tilt your body kinda like dis…" He gently held his hands against the sides of my waist and pushed my left hip a little further in, then nudged me back. "Put yer weight back on yo back foot a lil more — yeah."

My face burned, but I forced the embarrassment down, focusing on the task at hand.

 _Don't think, don't think, don't think…_

"Der ya go." Scout moved away, straightening up and turning to watch me as I pelted the next ball. I missed a few more after it, but eventually hit a few more balls a decent distance before having enough.

"Not bad," Scout said, flashing a toothy grin. I sighed, sweat glistening off my skin. I merely nodded, breathing heavily.

The dinner bell rang out loudly, so Scout and I took our cue to head in for the night.


	6. Plastered

Dinner was lively, as usual. The men were already beginning to get drunk. Demo was hardly ever sober, but he was the liveliest of the party tonight, leading us in wild stories from his adventures and childhood in Ireland. Spy seemed to grow my distant, the more he drank, and Soldier just got louder until he had a screaming match with Demoman, which resulted in an arm wrestle. Everyone took a side. I rooted for Demoman with Engie and Pyro, and Scout, Sniper, and Spy all took Soldier's side. Medic and Heavy sat the match out, refereeing what they couldn't join.

Soldier won, but Demo didn't go down quietly. They took their arguing outside when their food was finished. In a few minutes, when I'd settled on the couch with a fine German stout in hand and cuddled up next to Pyro, Demoman returned with Soldier's helmet on his head. Soldier ran around the base looking for it.

"I gotta say," he speech was interrupted with hiccups, "this isa great" hiccup "team.. an' I.. I just wanna say.. I love ya'all…"

"Uh—"

As Demoman began to fall forward, Scout stood up quickly to catch the drunk fool, hauling him into a chair. Medic laughed hysterically.

What better sport was there to watch on tv with liquor than soccer? Eyes intent on the screen, every mercenary got way more excited over the dumb goals than they should've. I thought a couple more beers would drown out their voices for the most part, water them down, but after 2 German stouts, 2 shots of fireball whiskey, a bloody Mary, a pint of rum with coke, and a serving of brandy, I still couldn't drown them out. Sure, my head swam and buzzed in all types, but, like Spy(until the soccer), I grew quieter and more secluded.

By now, Spy was on his feet, shouting at the TV as he team couldn't block the goal imposed upon them. Everything was in portuguese, though, so I didn't really know if he could understand what was going on. No one did. They only knew the numbers and the goals from one color to the next.

We were all rip-roaring drunk idiots, except for Demo, who was a passed out drunken idiot. And my dad, who was the most sober, watching us from the bar in the living room, laughing at us all in our uproar. The night drug on and on, and eventually, I couldn't take it. The noise was too much, and into my 5th serving of scotch and 4th Scrumpy, I realized I'd had enough to regret all of my decisions in the morning.

I didn't even say goodnight. Shaking, I got up slowly, stumbled through the excited men to the hallway, and trudged my way to my room again. I admit, I was fun getting drunk and watching the others get drunk, but I didn't enjoy watching sports. No one had any good stories they wanted to share, either. Next time, I'd have to make sure Demoman wasn't drunk before us.

"Goin' to sleep?"

With my hand on my doorknob, I lazily turned around to see Scout standing close, a bitter scent on his breath. He smirked down at my, his eyes lazy.

"If I can," I slurred, tossing my door open roughly and stepped in.

"Hey, c'mere.." Scout said, grabbed my arm as he stopped into my room as well. He pulled me to him again, stumbling around still as I was pressed to his chest. "You're so pretty.." he murmured, stroking my hair.

I laughed, rubbing my face into his chest. "I gotta shower, Scout," I hald-demanded, but chuckled while saying it. There was no way I was actually going to make it to the shower room.

"Right," Scout responded with a laugh. "Let's dance!"

"Okay," I agreed as he slipped his arm around my waist and held my hand, turning and stepping out of line as we spun around my cramped closet of a room. Calculating his release time, Scout flung me towards my bed, allowing me to settle quickly onto my covers, both of us laughing at each other. I didn't watch him, but when I looked up he was there, moved over me, holding me in.

We both laughed.

"Wadda'ya like, Pilly?"

"Hm?"

"You..you like fast guys, slow passionate guys… what…"

I laughed at his idea. Everything was so funny, so foggy. "I dunno," I teased, tapping his nose and giggling.

"I like it all," Scout chimed, falling down and nestling beside me.

"Do you like me?" I asked, chuckling with every word. He laughed in response.

"Yes!"

We both sat up, and I slowly moved to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. He chuckled nervously, sitting up.

His face was so thin, even thinner with my hands pressed to either side on his cheeks, which were warm and smiling. I felt one of his hands rest on my thigh, his other on my waist.

He seemed more handsome now. It was amazing that he didn't have a girlfriend. I pressed my forehead to his, my eyes boring into his as well. I smirked to myself, tracing the outline of each feature on his face with my thumb. He smiled, which made me smile.

Then the space between us wasn't space anymore. My lips against his were smooth and recently lathered with my cherry bomb chapstick, soft to the touch. Our breath smelled terrible, but that didn't stop our mouths from moving with each others, moving and responding in a timely matter. Our tongues were intoxicated, which was probably demonstrated by the fencing going on between the two. Uncivilized, ruthless, our tongues smeared against each other, until one of us pulled away to start another battle.

I pushed him down, hands to his chest. He was warm and welcoming, and I couldn't be happier when he wrapped his lanky arms around me, his touching to my skin expanding over the entirety of my body.

My drunken hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning every button slowly, clumsily, as if I didn't know what I was doing, like I had to find the shirt and recognize it as a short for each individual button. Scout laughed against our lips, which made me laugh again. Happy drunks, and he was very handsome, very dashing. I enjoyed letting my eyes flutter open as I slowly moved his flannel off of his shoulders and moved it to the ground.

My head was spinning more now than before. The music blaring beneath us still reached my ears and sent vibration to my brain, exploding in a bang of pain and torture, squeezing my brain and letting go only to squeeze it again. The head ache was throbbing, my vision blurry, expeially in my early lit room.

I collapsed beside him, laughing as I ran a finger down the center of his chest, walking two fingers over his stiff abdomen. He giggled, claiming that it tickled, but I didn't think I should stop until he grabbed my wrist and moved forward to kiss my lips again, very sloppy.

"You're so pretty, Scout," I said with a giggle.

"Mhm," Scout hummed, putting his hand behind my head. "You too," he cleared before capturing me in another kiss.


	7. The Family

I might've fallen asleep to our kissing. I might have pulled away, turned away, or something.

But when I woke up, Scout was shirtless in the leather armchair next to my bed and snoring, and my head was pounding. I frowned, automatically insulted that he was in my room until I recalled the night prior. It passed by like a dream sequence. Were memories really memories if you didn't consciously remember them?

Scout seemed to stir at the same time, shifting his seemingly sore body and stretching out in the chair as I sat up in my bed, a confused look on my face and his as well.

I'm pretty sure we both had the same question on our mind.

"What do you remember?" I asked, rubbing the sand from my eyes. All my clothes were still on, so that must've been a good sign.

"Following you, dancing, kissin', then…now…"

"Great," I muttered. "I remember watching the game, then kissin' you. And that's it." My head pounded like a fucker, refusing to leave me alone. "Jesus.. how much did I drink…"

"More than you should've," Scout retorted, rubbing his temples as he stood up and paced the floor. "You hold it in well… If I'd had as much as you did, I would've barfed up my brains."

I nodded, tossing my feet over the side of my bed. "I'm sorry," I murmured, looking around the room with sleepy eyes. "I'm a mess and I did some uncalled for things last night…"

He shrugged, standing up and stretching. "I don't care. It was fun. Should do it again."

I smirked, scratching my head lightly.

He looked at me half-seriously. "You regrettin'?"

"I would if you were angry at me, and I regret drinking so much… That's really all there is." I stood up slowly, stretching my arms out, then staggered over to the half-bath to brush the stench from my mouth and attempt to get myself out of a hangover. I imagined people were already lining up at Medic's lab, but Medic himself was probably still sleeping off his hangover. Anyway, Scout and I would have to leave soon, anyway. The clock in the bathroom read 7:25am — a 2 hour oversleep for me.

When I came out of the bathroom, walking around a little better and headache beginning to vanish, Scout was pulling on his flannel, leaving his chest exposed. He did look rather dashing.

 _Nope. Stop._ The beer goggles were still on, I realized. I grabbed my shower tote and headed for the door.

Scout made down the hallway silently, bare-footed and holding his shoes in one hand as he trudged slowly. He looked fine. Barefoot as well, I tiptoed my way to the showers, unsurprised to find that I was the only one showering.

Fifteen minutes was what it took to feel comfortable in my own skin again. Through a majority of the shower, I was pounding my forehead against the tile wall and telling myself how stupid I was for allowing drunk-me to make out with drunk-Scout. Scout didn't seem to mind, though… Drunk-Scout had also said that he liked me…

 _Stop it, Evelyn!_ I warned myself, wrapping my hair in a towel turban and my body in my fluffy red robe, identical to everyone else's in every aspect but size. I quietly stole through the hallways again, passing up Scout, who was heading for the showers, as well.

In twenty minutes, we were at Scout's truck. I'd said goodbye to my dad for the day and taken a couple Über pills to kill the pain. He didn't ask if Scout was okay to drive, which I thought was weird, but I guess it was well-known that Scout could hold his liquor pretty well. I wondered if he was even drunk.

"Alrighty Pilly, ya ready?"

"Yeah, yeah." I flipped on the radio and folded my legs to the side of me, rolling down my window and breathing in the morning air.

Dust piled up around us, but Scout never told me to close the window. I assumed he figured I would do it on my own once I got a mouthful of dust and dirt, which I did, eventually.

"How long as it been since a rain?" I asked, propped my right leg up on the dashboard.

"Eh.. like…two nights before you got 'ere. It hardly rains in the summer months."

The middle seat between Scout and me was empty, so I draped my legs over it, bent at the knee to keep from hitting Scout, and laid my head on the door. "Don't crash."

He smirked, looking over at me. "What if I…do this!" He fishtailed a bit, then drifted to the right, throwing me around. I flew forward, but put my hands on the dashboard just in time to catch myself from getting my head smashed.

"What the hell, Scout!?" I yelled, sitting up when the truck was stable again.

"Yeah, that'll teach ya t'sit up."

I growled under my breath and reluctantly remained sitting up from the rest of the trip.

The drive into the town was, like, an hour. It was awful, but Scout, once he woke up a bit more, started blabbering the entire way there.

Once we were in the heart of the big city, skyscrapers shiny and reaching for the heavens, Scout pulled into a large, asphalt parking lot and we hopped out. It was a different scene, for sure. Being in the desert for so long, you forget what the cities look like.

People bustled about everywhere, from shop to shop, café to café, even so early in the morning. It definitely was wayy more people than what I'd grown used to.

"Like the looks?" Scout asked, walking up behind me, then beside me.

I nodded, grinning. "What do you have to do here?"

"I'm gonna see my ma, first. She works in a small clothing boutique… which is connected to a hair and makeup boutique… which is connected to a nail salon… It's all a big franchise or somethin'."

I nodded again, trying to take in the sight before me.

"My dad owns the hair and makeup salon."

Cars whizzed past on the streets, completely oblivious to the lives around them. Where ever they were going, they were really in a hurry… Trucks the size of trains blew out exhaust that smelled awful, but gave the city its character.

Scout began to pull ahead of me, leading the way through the crowds of people on the streets. I didn't notice — I kept looking up at the huge buildings and looking at my reflection in the mirror-like skins of the skyscrapers.

Then I realized I didn't know anyone around me.

"Wait, Scout!" I called out, reaching forward, trying to catch up, pushing my way through the crowd, who angrily pushed back in response.

"Know it off, sugar plum, we all wanna get somewhere!"

"Stop pushing!"

"Scout!" I shouted, "Scout!"

"Pipe down, princess!"

Frantically, I began to claw my way through the crowd, shouting Scout's name, tears beginning to well in my eyes. I didn't want to get lost here — not alone, at least. Being so short, as well, it was difficult to see over people.

I pulled off to the side, climbing up the staircase to an important-looking building, hands on my gun holster and knife sheathe to make sure they were still there. My eyes scanned the crowd for Scout, but had a hard time looking because they were so waterlogged.

Then I saw him, red-shirt and blue jeans, pushing his way against the crowd, looking around for me.

"Scout!" I called out, running down to meet him. "Scou-"

A firm hand clapped over my mouth and grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back. My legs flew out from under me, and I prayed Scout had already heard me. What a time to get kidnapped.

I struggled against my captor, kicking out and pulling with all my brute force I had left. I bit his hand, which earned me a punch to the face as I was dragged away, screaming and kicking. I wondered why no one came to help me…

It was two men, I realized now, both in fancy suits and sunglasses to hide their identities.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I screamed at the pair, struggling against their grip. "Let go! Jesus Christ!"

"Nah," one said, grabbing my jaw. "I think we're gonna mark y'as ours, first…"

He was standing perfectly in front of me, legs splayed out generously as he began to undo his fly. The other man who was holding me clamped his hand over my mouth again, tightly. So I kicked him, square up his pants. We went down with a howl, clutching his manhood, and I rammed the other guy against the wall, pulled away, and took out my pistol.

The sound of echoing running footsteps caught my ear, and then yelling.

Four more men had found us in the alleyway, all dressed in identical black suits and sunglasses to match. Their guns were drawn, too.

"Shit," I said aloud, jumping over the primary two men and taking off down the alleyway again.

Scout appeared at the end I was running towards, pistol drawn and down by his side.

"Pill!" he exclaimed, "turn around an' fight 'em! What are ya doin'?"

I stopped, turned, and pulled the trigger a couple times, shooting to cripple. I hit their legs, sending them tripping all over each other. Scout also fired a couple times, putting bullets in their shoulders.

One without a gun got up to me, and I didn't have time to reload. I put my gun away and engaged in guerrilla warfare, hand-to-hand combat. Heavy's training came in handy. I made the heavy guy fall first, then put a knife slice into his thigh. He cried out in pain.

Scout grabbed my hand and took off, practically dragging me behind him as I struggled to run off with him, practically sobbing.

We ran around behind buildings until Scout led me into one, pushing me inside before I had a chance to object.

"Dis is tha storage room for my mom'n dad's parlors…" he explained, barely even winded.

Shaken up and trembling, I collapsed to the ground in a heap, pulling my knees to my chest as I tried to gain control of my breathing again.

"God, Pilly, are you okay?" He asked calmly, crouching down in front of me. "Hey, I know it was scary, but ya lived. You've been through dat before."

"I've never been ganged up to be raped like _that_ before," I stated through quivering lips.

Scout smoothed out my hair, then kissed my forehead.

He _kissed_ my forehead.

I was very confused for a moment. I thought that was something we only did when we were drunk last night…

"Look, you're alive. As long as you're keepin' wit' me, y'don't gotta worry 'bout dem ever again, okay?"

I nodded slightly, rubbing my arms as I stood up again, Scout helping me up.

He drew me in for a gentle hug. I let my eyes fluttered closed and stuffed my face into his chest.

"Well, Scouty, hi!" A Boston-accented female voice tuned.

"Hi, ma…" Scout pulled away slowly, and I attempted to regain myself. "Dis is da Pill, Sniper's daughter."

"Hello!" Scout's mom mused, wrapping me up in a big hug. "I'm so happy Scout made another friend!"

I chuckled a bit, wiping my eyes. "Yeah… he's a good friend to have," I said shyly.

Scout's Mom lit up and ushered us into her parlor and up the stairs to "her floor," which included a living room and two guest bedrooms for when her and hers husband had to sleep the night.

"Hun, you in here?"

"Oui, ma cher, I'll be right out!"

I froze. I knew that voice. I knew that accent.

And I knew that face as the Spy stepped out of his office, eyes widening at my presence. "Hello, Pill…"

"Hello, Spy," I replied, an edge to my voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Likewise."

"Oh, you already know each other..?" Scout's mom looked confused.

"I'm staying the summer with my dad on the fort, learning to fight better and all…" I answered her internal question. "I keep in contact with everyone on the team."

Scout's mom giggled, looking at Scout. "Some more than others, I see."

"Ma, no," Scout defended.

"I wouldn't be so quick to defend yourself, boy," Spy said with a smirk. His eyes reminded me of last night, and I could see that he'd seen our drink working through our lips last night.

Scout's eyes got wide. "No, no, no, no, no.."

Spy laughed wildly, putting a hand on his wife's shoulder. "'E hasn't told 'er yet!" He hooted, doubling over and snorting in laughter. "Ooo… I'll leave you to tell 'er zen…" Still snorting, Spy left us, pulling off his mask as he and his wife stooped into his office.

I looked up at Scout, not exactly expecting an explanation, but wanting one. He looked down at me, blush spreading over his cheeks.

"Uh…" he mumbled, looking for his words. "It's nothin'. I'll tell ya later," he insisted, grabbing my arm and dragging me down the staircase again.

"Scout, stop, I can follow you, y'know," I said quietly,not wanting to cause a scene as we came to the shop part of the building.

He let go without turning to even look at me. I kept hot on his heels, following him out of his parents' shops and down the busy street with him. We headed back towards the parking lot, closer to where I'd been snatched again.

I hung on his shirt like a hook, wanting nothing more than to just cling to his back like a koala so people would stop looking at me with that weird look in their eyes… We went back to his truck and jumped in without a word, Scout's cheeks still flushed with color.

"Scout, will you—"

"I'll tell ya later, but for now we''re gonna go pick upa present for my brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Seven. Dis one is my identical twin. He's de uh, BLU Scout."

My head snapped in his direction. "The what!?"

"BLU Scout. We're d'youngest. The others are all, like, sports people. Hockey, football, baseball, soccer, swimming, an' volleyball. The others are all professionals. My brother an' I couldn't eva' stay wit a team, so dad got us jobs wit 'im… 'cept my brother's against me'n dad."

"Who's the favorite?" I joked. But, in all seriousness, I wanted to know.

"Mikey. He's also a dancer and the volleyball player. He's, uh, like.. 29 now… Also gay. Tall and thin."

"You're all tall and thin," I reminded him.

"Taller." He stopped at a red light and sat back in his seat. "Yeah… I'm the least favorite of my dad. But… Bein' the youngest, ma likes me better." He grinned, looking over at me. "How 'bout you?"

I found myself smiling at him again, last nights visions creeping back into my mind. "Uh… I had a couple'a younger siblings, but not Sniper's. Or my mom's. Neighbor's kids, ones I babysat, y'know? God, I thought I hated kids, but they were just so fun… My mom hardly ever saw me then. Mom and Sniper never married, y'know? So… mom would get a new boyfriend every now 'n then, nothing super romantic. I hardly ever saw them 'cus I was babysittin' so often."

"How many were there?"

"Huh?"

"Kids, Pill. Y'know, how many kiddos?"

I thought for a second, running through all the names in my head. "Like… twelve, I wanna say…"

"Jesus," Scout laughed, making a turn and pulling into another parking lot.

"Yeah, they were funny little nuggets… I couldn't pick favorites. My mom didn't hardly know any of them. Dad would.. When Sniper came home for holidays, he'd wanna meet all of 'em because I'd send him postcards from them all and write letters about them. He always liked bein' around 'em — gave him a chance to get away from mom's boyfriend but keep around me for awhile, at least. Then mom stopped having boyfriends and Sniper stayed for longer each time… I think mom kept falling in love with him over and over again..

"Then mom got cancer, and Sniper was around all the time, helping to keep her alive as best he could… But she was going too fast. We were both there when her lights flickered out for the last time, but.. man, I'd never seen my dad so defeated.."

Scout and I sat in silence for a couple moments, not even unbuckling our seat belts. My eyes glanced over at him, looking at his bandaged hands, similar to mine, hold each other, tapping on the back of his hand with his pointer. He stayed very still. Then my eyes travelled up to his his torso, then to his face. His eyes were looking straight at me. He turned away.

"Y'know," Scout said finally, shifting in his seat. "Now I finally understand why Snipes wasn't gettin' no sleep for a few months. He said somethin' 'boutta… boutta sheila an' his little girl, but he never said what. Then when you came, I just assumed it was 'cus you were bored or somethin'.." He sighed. "I feel bad for the tough guy…"

"Yeah, well, it's over and done with," I replied slowly, looking out of my window. I placed my forehead against the glass and breathed slowly, thinking about the nights I'd stayed up till dawn with my dad, curled up in his lap, my head snuggled under his chin as we talked and talked and talked about mom and her condition and how she was before and how it could've come to this and Sniper said he would've married her a million times but she kept saying no because he always had to be away for his fights. One mission after another.

"Not the pain," Scout said quietly. I looked over at him, noticing the intent way his eyes burned into mine. "Yeah, the actions are over and done, but.. I think you think about that every frickin' day and it hurts y'insides a little more each time."

I blinked, shocked that he'd read me so well. The least observant member of the team finally cracked me open and took a tip in the waters. I grinned a bit, shaking my head slightly and looked away. "Yeah. I feel bad for never really gettin' to know her boyfriends, but… I did what I could. I played my part, dad played his, mom played hers. Yeah, it hurts that I couldn't save her or anything, and it hurts that she's gone, but… I don't want to dwell." I unbuckled and shifted my body around to face him. "Anyway, that's my story. Twelve little siblings and a couple'a crazy parents."

"What was bein' a kid like?" Scout asked curiously, unbuckling his seatbelt as well.

"Well," I started thoughtfully, "as a kid, dad couldn't come home for Christmas every year. My mom and I had a ritual when he couldn't be there. We would go to church, eat breakfast afterwards, sing carols with the church choir, come back for lunch with the choir, the choir would leave, then mom would send me on a scavenger hunt to find the gifts she'd gotten me, and I flat out hid the ones I'd made for her in the house somewhere without clues. Once we'd found them, y'know, typically it was like, three things tops, we'd read dad's letters from the past week, snuggled up by the fireplace. We'd read the longest letter — the Christmas card — then open up presents. I always got clothes or useful things, sometimes a piece of jewelry or and a small plush toy. I'd draw mom pictures on canvases, make a craft at school to give her, y'know… something kid-like… and she'd always just be like, 'Oh, Evie! This is so pretty! Thank you!' and I wanted to be like her hone I opened my presents, so, even if I didn't like it, I'd look her in the eye and say, 'Thank you, mommy, I love it!' After presents… Then we'd put on a Christmas move and write letters to dad to thank him for the money he sent us each and make him a craft together or something.. Cookies and keychains, all that fun stuff.." I smiled to myself, looking up at the ceiling.

"Then I'd spend a lot of time at his parents' house on other holidays. I remember… when my dad came home, we lit a fire. When he didn't, the fireplace was empty. Sometimes, he tried to surprise us, but I knew he was there because of the fire in the fireplace. He thought I was pretty clever — I did, too. I grew up always looking for him. Kinda sad, really… It was nice that he always sent letters, though. Everyday, he wrote a new one. Sometimes I'd forget… So I'd write two the next day." I searched my brain for more dirt to dig through. "Without my dad, though, I watch my friends' dads all the time. I was really depressed when I turned twelve. Mom insisted that it was just pre-teenage angst, but I had to see a therapist. The only thing that helped, though, was reading dad's letters. I constantly counted down the days until I could see him again. That's how I counted time, until mom started getting sick. And.. that brings me to now."

Scout listened quietly the entire time, asking questions only when I stopped talking — when I finished my thoughts. "Did you have any friends at all? Play sports? Like.. anything?"

I shook my head. "Didn't have time or money. Sports were expensive — I had my own olympics with the boys in my neighborhood until they all joined club teams. Yeah, I flat-out begged my mom to let me join something — anything — but we just couldn't swing it. So, since kindergarden, whenever dad came home, we sent shooting. That was my sport.

"As for friends, no one wanted to be friends with the weirdo who only had a mom. I didn't know who that was relevant, but apparently it was. Then the loneliness got to me, finally. So… I'm not really used to having a friend to tell all of this to, I'm sorry." I grinned over at him. "Npw that I've spilled forth my life story, you, uh.. wanna get your brother's thing?"

He shrugged, opening his door. "Don't care. I'm much more interested in what you gotta say."

We walked into a dim gun-shop stationed in what once was a garage, concrete lining the floors and walls.

"Yo, Bernie!" Scout called out, taking my hand as we stepped in. He laced his fingers into the gaps between mine.. I was alarmed at first, but sank into the feeling quickly. He didn't want another fiasco like earlier to happen, anyway.

A big man coated in tattoos stepped out of a doorway and behind a glass counter filled with various types of ammunition. He had a very deep voice, almost as deep as Heavy's. "Hellllooo Scout, and — oh, my! You've brought yourself a _lady_ friend, I see."

"Dibs!" A skinny man shouted, plowing through the door after the heavy Bernie.

"Ay, back off, she's mine!" Another thin man shouted, leaving the back room to follow the first skinny man.

Scout rolled his eyes.

"Off. Limits," Scout emphasized boldly.

"Aw, whatcha gonna do little guy?" the first thin man chuckled. He had electric blue hair and sickly pale skin.

"Not me," Scout smirked, glacning over at me. I squeezed his hand lightly, and he returned the gesture. "She'll kill ya. I practically had to seduce her with a shot before she calmed down like this."

I returned Scout's smirk.

"Sure," the second thin man said. He was a blonde, taller than the first. "Benny here can seduce any woman just by wooing 'em."

"Not this one," Scout replied doubtfully. "Anyway, she'd off limits."

"Oooo, Scout don't want no competition!" the blue-haired man, Benny, taunted. "Why, scared she'll leave ya?"

"She don't gotta leave me — there's nothin' to leave."

"Suuuurrrreeee," the blonde retorted.

"Shut up!" Bernie hollered at the smaller men. "Scout's here to pick up an order. That involved only me. Get your asses back in the storage room, weed-heads," Bernie bellowed, shoving the smaller men back to the door they popped out of.

"What'cha like in bed, sweetheart?" Benny asked, jumping over the counter ans anteing towards Scout and me. "I'll bet I know exactly how you like it — should gimme a chance, darlin'. I know how t'really get y'going." He laughed to him, looking me up and down. "I know how y'hunters are — trappers, hikers, outdoorsy, yeah? Like it in a tree, hm?"

Scout didn't want to listen to this guy, but, for once, words failed him. I didn't mind, though, since he was filling out a paper for his order furiously, steamed over Benny, no doubt. I let go of his hand slowly and turned to face Benny. I knew I could handle this guy.

I leaned my back against the counter, my profile to Scout and my face to Benny as he swaggered towards me.

"Hehe, yeah, you'll like it rough eventually—" He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him.

When he touched me, that crossed the line.

I flung his grip off of me and pulled him to the ground roughly, stooping over to pick him up and fling him against the wall, his face kissing the concrete with a crack.

I cocked my pistol and aimed to the side of his face.

"If you're smart, you'll stay right there," I warned. "I'm a hell of a shot, and I never miss."

"Psh," Benny scoffed, beginnign to turn around.

So I fired.

I aimed for the side of his face. My bullet grazed his ear so slightly, but he screamed like a little girl. Scout had turned to look at me, but, seeing that I had it handled, he shrugged and finished his paper work.

"Stay there," I told Benny, whose ass faced me and shook in terror.

"Please.. please don't hurt me…"

"Stay there, dickhead," I mused, sounding angry but a smile plastering my face. Scout received his brother's gun and began walking towards the door with my hand entangled in his. I walked up right behind Benny and whispered in his ear. "Don't you _ever_ cross me again," I murmured.

Once we left the gun shop, I replaced my gun in its holster and released Scout's hand. The worst was over, at least.

"You took my catchphrase," Scout acknowledge.

I merely shrugged. changing the topic.

"What is it with guys wanting to rape me?" I asked aloud, looking at him.

Scout's face froze in a stupid grin. "Well.. I mean…" Scout began, jumping into his truck. "You're pretty. You're new, so mysterious… and you happen to be parading around with another guy. See… guys like competition. They want something someone else has just because they don't got it. it's an ego and pride thing."

I traced my finger over the plastic box for Scout's brother. "Still…"

"Yeah, most guys haven't figured it out yet."

"I see that," I laughed.

We drove back to his house, talking about the past and people we real would've rather not have met… such as Benny. We arrived at Scout's house within a few minutes. He parked in his parents' driveway and jumped out immediately — I followed in quick succession.

"Are they…" I asked slowly, drawing out my sentence, "are they all home?"

"The brothers?" He asked, turning around, "Yeah. Elliott is graduatin' tomorrow from college with a football career already planned out for 'im."

"Must be nice," I murmured, stepping inside as Scout held the door open.

His brothers, all tall and lanky like him but with subtle differences to distinct them, were lounging in the living room, gathered around a flat-screen television set. Upon stepping through, the brothers all began to holler friendly-like for Scout, whistling as he walked in. Scout grinned, walking over to them.

"Here's the soldier, home from the fight!"

"And he's brought a girrrlll!"

I spotted BLU Scout easily — one of the youngest brothers, he was seated on the floor, but stood up upon our arrival. "Nah, fellas, she ain't no girl."

One of the boys with probably the broadest shoulders of the lot punched him in the shoulder, standing up, too. "Course she is! Mikey's the only queer one!"

"Nah, nah, nah," BLU smirked, "I mean, he didn't go pick 'er up anywhere — she's on his _team_."

"Can it, Tony!" Scout snapped. "Guys, dis is Pill. She's tha Sniper's kid. Pill, dis is…" He pointed out each of his six brothers present, "Oliver, Samuel, Mikey, Benedict, Daniel, and Anthony."

I nodded, giving a slight with a shy grin. "I'm, uh… _Pill_ …"

"That's what she is, fo' sure…" Anthony, or Tony, collapsed onto his brother's chair with a scoff.

"So our littlest bro's got himself a fightin' chick…"

"Ay, she ain't no chick!" Scout piped up, walking through the living room behind the couch to the kitchen, motioning for me to follow him. "An' she ain't mine. But she's off-limits, words of her dad."

"Sure, sure," BLU and Benedict both said.

"He probably just wants t'keep her for 'imself but he ain't got the balls to ask her out!" Samuel snickered. "Probably either scared shit or knows he can't handle dat ass!"

Oliver smacked Samuel as I walked behind them, hurrying after Scout.

"Oh, shit, can you give dis to my twin?"

"Yeah," I nodded, taking the gun case from Scout and weaving my way over to BLU Scout. "Here," I said, dropping the case on his lap. "Maybe you can hit me with this one."

BLU glared up at me, but opened his gift hurriedly. "Aw, sweet!" He pointed it up at my face, pretending to headshot me. " _Be polite,_ " he imitated my father, " _throw piss at people!_ "

"Be efficient," I reminded him, quickly drawing out my pistol and aiming it at his head with a smirk, "and alway's have a plan t'kill everyone you meet.." When I imitated my father, I always gave myself a perfect Aussie accent. I grinned evilly down at BLU. "Anything else smart to say?"

"You think you're real scary, don't cha?" BLU said, putting his gun away and sizing me up, standing chest to chest with me so I had to look up at him. I locked my gun and replaced it without having to look, glaring up at BLU.

"No, but my dad is," I grinned. "And so is the rest of my team."

"C'mon, Tony, leave 'er alone, you're off the battlefield for today."

"She started it!" Tony protested. He glared at me then took his seat again after Benedict pulled him away from me.

"Play with your new toy," Ben instructed. Tony merely kept glaring at me, then stuck his tongue out, like a kid.

So I stuck mine out too, then joined Scout in the kitchen.

"Your brother's a dick," I stated.

"Yeah, I'm the nicer of d'twins," he replied, handing me half of his ham sandwich he'd made while I talked to Tony. "Did ya wanna go to lunch somewhere?"

I shrugged, taking a seat on the stool by the island. "I don't care. I'm kinda just following you around, because if I weren't out of at the base, I'd be shooting something or still sleepin' off my hangover."

He chuckled, scarfing down his sandwich quickly. "How is dat, by the way?"

"Fine, don't even feel anything."

The boys in the next room erupted into a series of hollers and clapping. "Yeah, Eli!"

"Uh… dat's my brotha' playin' before his graduation tomorrow.." He sighed, taking a swig from a glass filled with milk. "Oh, sorry," he realized, "can I get'cha somethin' t'drink?"

"Water," I replied. "So… what's your name, Scout?" I asked casually, knowing the dangerous waters I was treading.

"Uh…" Scout paused, sloshing the water from the tap, "What's yours?"

"You know mine, nuthead," I stated.

"Oh, yeah.. Evie Minnie Mundy, right?… Uh…"

"Did you forget?"

"No, no, I just… it doesn't fit me like Scout does."

"Well, let's hear it, before I asked your brothers."

He turned around and handed me a glass filled halfway with water, and I took a sip as he stammered through telling me his name.

"Alexander," he said quietly. "Dey call me Alex."

I grinned. "Why are you so ashamed of it? It's a good, strong name."

Scout rolled his eyes, looking away. "Yeah, strong for sissies."

"Stop," I warned, "It's a good name. Leave it at that, why don't ya?"

He sighed, then slowly grinned at me.

"What?" I asked as he leaned over the island towards me.

"Just thinkin' 'bout last night."

I rolled my eyes. "It don't mean a thing," I reminded him coolly, taking another drink of my water. He kept looking at me with a grin plastered to his face. "We were drunk!" He blinked. "Stop looking at me like that!" I shielded my face from him and frowned.

He pulled away, downing the rest of his glass of milk. "C'mon, let's go to lunch."

"Are we bringing the troop?"

"Nah. Jus' somethin' light, gotta surprise for ya tonight."

I shrugged, standing up. Even from the small sandwich we'd shared, I was still hungry. I ate as much as Heavy sometimes.

We passed through the living room again, waving goodbye to the group of brothers who paid no attention to us, as their eyes were fixed on the screen. We hopped into the truck again.


	8. A Night Out

We spent the afternoon window shopping — I bought a new dress because Scout said we were going somewhere "Fancy, so my dad said to look presentable."

"As opposed to trashy?" I asked, insulted.

Scout shrugged.

So I bought a short black dress with long sleeves and a pair of platform black heels at his mom's boutique for 50% off. Only spent, like $50.

When we arrived back at his house, Scout's brothers were all in the guest rooms, since this wasn't their childhood home, suiting up for the night. Scout and BLU, who had lived here for a short while before graduating high school, had lived here before, so they both had their own rooms. Scout withdrew to his room to get ready and I was allowed, by his mother's words, to get dressed in his mother's room. She even gave me a thick silver collar to wear, which was dazzling with what I assumed were diamonds (Spy knew how to gift, I thought). I pulled my hair back into a bun and clipped it tight. I was about to walk out when his mother popped back in, then threw me down and smothered makeup onto my face. It looked nice — fierce red lips and smokey black eyes.

"Where are we going?" I asked her quietly, admiring the dangling diamond earrings she'd given me to wear.

"Out. So you're one of his friends?" She asked, switching the topic rapidly.

"Yeah, I guess. We hang out at the base a lot," I said.

"How old are ya, if I can ask?" She fiddled with her own necklace and admired herself in the mirror.

"Nineteen," I said quietly. "Started school late, though.."

"Ah, fresh out of the bowl, I see!" She said with a chuckle. "Why're ya at the base with your dad, can I ask?"

"Mom died. Needed a relative to stay with, away from home..." I said quietly, looking down at my hands, which I shed of their bandages for dainty black gloves on loan. I stood up from the seat I'd been sitting in and smiled at her. "Really, I'm grateful for you all letting me join you tonight, though. I haven't spent time with a lot of people since my mom passed."

Scout's mom looked like she'd been slapped across the face. "Oh, my God, darlin' I'm so sorry t'hear that!" She rushed forwards and hugged me tightly. "I'm sure your pops must be devastated! Wish I'd known— I would'a made my husband bring him, too! It's just Alex asked us a couple'a weeks ago if we could bring ya t'this place 'cus he wanted t'surprise ya! Y'know, a nice gesture of friendship or whatever, but — If I'd known — oh, jeez, I'm sorry!" She spoke so much so quickly I could barely process her statements.

"It's — it's okay, Mrs. Scout… Really, it's fine, I really appreciate just gettin' away from the place. My dad is happier alone, anyway. And… he definitely doesn't like dressing up, so it's probably just as well." I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled up at her. "Thank you."

"Anytime, hun, just say the word — A friend of Alex's is another kid to us, so don't even worry about it! You're welcome any time!"

I followed her out of her room, carefully clapping down the stairs in my heels as elegantly as I could behind Mrs. Mom. She quickly made her way down and made sure all the boys were dressed properly — tuxes and bow ties and straight ties all around. They all looked dashing — even the Scouts looked professional as they stepped on each other's toes to meet me at the bottom of the staircase.

RED Scout had a weird, dazed look on his face as I finally reached the flat floor. "What?" I asked, pushing him off my glittering shoulder.

"Uh, nothin'… It's just… your dad would have a heart attack if he saw ya now.."

"Then get a picture," I demanded with a grin, posing in front of a body-mirror.

"Oh my God, yes! Alex, Pilly, you two get together for a picture while ya father brings the limo out!" Mom called out, putting an instant-camera to her face.

We hopped in a rented limo, driven by none other than the RED Spy, and headed out for an hour-long drive to an unknown destination. Unknown to me, that was. Everyone else knew where we were going.

I should've expected it to be a casino, though. Expensive dining, dancing, and gambling were the topics of the night. A live swing band was performing as we walked in and took a seat at a booth. I could hardly believe my eyes as we walked in, the rooms dim but sparkling with life and a 60's aroma. Three of Scout's brothers automatically took off to the gambling rooms with their drinks in hand, but RED Scout, BLU Scout, and the other three brothers left with us took a reserved booth and ordered drinks and food.

"Do ya dance?" Scout's mom asked, jerking her head over to the dance floor and band.

I nodded slightly. "My uncle gave me swing lessons until my junior year," I replied, recognizing the beats and recalling the steps mentally.

Spy, now masked and flipping through a menu, rose his eyebrow and discontinued his browsing to acknowledge us. "I'm surprised the bushman didn't teach you," he teased.

I smirked. "Sniper? Dance? He has more fun being in the band."

Spy chuckled.

I felt exposed without my gun on my hip, but I'd managed to sneak my small knife into my shoe. Still, it didn't give me much relief. I'd made RED Scout clip my gun to his belt and drape the tail of his coat jacket over it. I just felt so defenseless… But, then again, Spy probably kept his arsenal on him all the time.

"Honey, go dance with her! Don't make her stay in this booth all night! Get up!"

Spy obeyed his wife's orders after shedding himself of his jacket and moved out of his spot, offering a hand for a dance. "May I?" He asked, grinning. "Ze wife doesn't dance at all an' I've been itching for a good dance partner for some time now."

I blushed slightly, looking at Scout, who made a 'wtf' face at his dad. Peering across the table, BLU Scout was making the same face at his father.

Wtf?

I gingerly took his gloved hand and made my way out to the dance floor on Spy's arm.

We immediately found the rhythm, and, to my surprise, we matched steps perfectly. The beat bounced and moved, and we couldn't help but fly across the dance floor with it, spinning and jumping with the swinging music. I had to watch his eyes — Eye much likes Scout's — to know what he was doing, feeling him push me over slightly to go where he led. Dancing was an art, and he'd perfected his part. I only had to follow.

I saw the flash of a camera from the corner of my eye, and knew immediately that Scout's mom was snapping pictures of the two of us, dancing and jiving.

"Hopefully your father doesn't have my head for zis," Spy chortled, spinning me around.

"He'd sooner take Scout's head," I retorted with a grin, moving quickly with the Spy's steps. Masked, dancing with Spy was like dancing with a moving mannequin. It was weird not seeing my partner's face while dancing, even when this was how I'd known him on the day-to-day basis.

"So… what are you and Scout, if you don't mind me asking," Spy asked quietly, looking over my shoulder to his son.

"Friends," I replied, "good friends."

"Zen what was last night?" He grinned down at me — not evilly, but in a way that sent shivers down my back knowing he'd seen us.

"The drinks were talking," I reasoned with him, spinning him around after he spun me.

"Sure," Spy said, dipping me as the song ended.

"You saw how much I drank!" I exclaimed, blushing at the sudden change of position.

"Yes, and I also saw how much Scout drank," Spy teased. "Ze differences were immense."

"Fine. _MY_ drinks were talking for me." I glared up at Spy for a moment, then smiled, realizing he didn't mean any harm. He was just… being fatherly. A quality I'd never known he possessed. "What did you think we were?"

He pulled me back up, putting me on his arm as we walked back to the booth. "Secret lovers. I planned on exploiting you," he said sarcastically.

"Seriously."

"Hello, my love!" Spy said, kissing his wife's forehead as we got back to the booth quickly. The boys had pulled the separate couch pieces apart so the booth was easier to move in and out of — limiting two people per seat. I took my spot next to Alex as Spy sat next to his lover, annoyed that h'ed dodged my question.

Drinks were brought to the table soon and a toast was made to the graduating - tomorrow brother. Scout and Tony and another brother decided to play pool, and I didn't want to be left with Spy, so I took my drink and followed the troop to the billiard's table. Tony and Benedict had automatically assumed that I was going to sit out, sipping at my expensive whiskey while eyeing up Alex, but I surprised them when I grabbed a pool stick for myself.

We each made a cheers before the first shot was made — loser was finished drinking for the night.

Needless to say, I didn't lose. BLU, Tony, did. He was pretty upset about it, too, swearing up and down and all around about how a girl shouldn't be allowed to play pool or fight, which I merely laughed at.

"What are you so upset about? That I get more kills than you, that I can play pool?" I sat at the edge of the table and downed the rest of my drink, putting it on a waiter's platter as he passed by. "Just relax, man, it's not a forever thing."

He growled, and I noticed his eye twitched a bit.

I just chuckled, gliding past him with Benedict and Alex as we strode back to the table as the food as arriving.

Drinks, booze, good music, and a lot of laughing. That was dinner. The group of brothers took off to chat up a few of the single gals striding around in skin-tight ass-high dresses with painted-up faces and legs a mile long. Scout and I, on the other hand, darted outside for a breath of fresh air while his parents had their backs turned.

We walked outside, the music growing distant behind us as the nighttime quiet engulfed us. The country club was quite a ways from the city — even farther away from the base, so far away from my summer home. I found myself wishing my dad was there, even though he wouldn't have wanted to be there.

"Havin' fun?" Scout asked, looking up at the clear sky. It was around 10pm or so.

I nodded, grinning up at him. "Loads. I'm not drunk, I'm not not hurtin', and the only person I'm worried who's gonna hurt me is your brother, and I've already beat him at pool."

Scout chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, he's a character."

"That's an understatement."

"I know."

We stood in silence for a minute, my hands on the railing of the patio that looked out over a lake, boats bobbing at the dock.

"Why did you want me to do this with you, Scout?" I asked, "And how did you plan it so long ago?"

He shrugged. "I gotta keep some things to myself, Pilly. Gotta keep up the mysterious atmosphere of myself."

"I thought we were beyond that," I protested.

He laughed. "I'm never beyond my mystery."

"If you say so." I grinned up at him. "Your dad seems to think we make a nice couple. At least that's what I think he thinks."

"That's a lotta thinkin, Pilly," Scout replied, "messes with ya."

"He said… he said you didn't drink as much as me last night," I admitted. "Did you?"

"Pill," Scout sighed, looking down at me, "you were fuckin' plastered outta your mind. Ain't no way I could'a drank as much as ya."

I frowned. "Were you even drunk?" I asked quietly.

"Hardly," Scout smirked. "I guess you're wondering why I let you do what you did, right?"

I nodded, looking out at the water.

"It just… seemed like the right thing t'do, y'know? I dunno, it was weird… I wasn't drunk, but I don't think I was thinkin' straight. An… I'm sorry if you're upset with me for not stopping you, but.. I don't think I wanted you to stop." He sounded ashamed as his voice grew quieter and quieter. "You might've punched me."

I placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. "Hey, it's fine. We're friends. It was a one-time thing. I'm not upset or angry or anything. Just find it odd."

"Well, ya got that right," Scout snickered.

I smirked, placing my head on his shoulder and looking out at the sky. "Will you dance with me?"

He was quiet for a few moments, contemplating, I assumed. "Yeah. I'll dance wit'ya."

We returned to the dining hall after a few minutes of watching the water in silence, making our way to the dance floor just in time for a slow, waving song to be played. Spy was on the dance floor with his wife, swaying back and forth with her, talking in hushed tones. His brothers were there, a few on the sidelines, a few dancing with each other or another lady.

But I had Scout's arms wrapped around my waist and holding me as we clasped hands and swayed with small steps, back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

It was getting later and later, now nearly 10:30, and I was getting sleepy, knowing I'd be regretting every moment I spent awake tonight in the morning. I'd only had one drink, so I did myself a favor in that sense. My eyes fluttered shut, and I found myself laying my head on Scout's chest, not saying a word at all to him as I did so. His grip around my waist firmed up a little bit, holding me closely to him, and he placed his chin on top of my head. I stayed like that until the end of the song, only pulling away to applaud the band for their stellar performance throughout the night.

Scout turned to look at me, opening his mouth like he was about to say something. Then he withdrew, shaking his head, like I hadn't noticed.

Sleepy-eyed and already falling asleep, we left the joint quickly, piling into the limo again to get home.

It was about 11:30 when we reached his house again. BLU Scout said he had to leave right then and there, that he couldn't stay the night, and the rest of Scout's brothers were taking up the guest beds. Scout had a bunk bed in his room, for whatever reason, so I got the top bunk.

I changed into a pair of Scout's gender-neutral pajamas for the night and took off that makeup-face Scout's mom had made me up in. I was sorry to see the masterpiece smeared away, but happy to be in my own skin again. T-shirt and sweatpants, I barged into Scout's room uncalled for.

"You look nice," Scout commented upon my arrival, leaving me in a stun.

"Uh," I stammered, looking down at myself in his clothes. "Thanks."

He smirked, flipping on a lamp by his bed asI hit the ceiling lights. "I mean, you're in only my clothes," he said with a grin.

"Am I showing too much skin?" I teased, looking myself over again. I was exhausted, but being in Scout's presence always gave me the strength to be sarcastic.

"Not enough, in my opinion," Scout replied. "If ya got it, flaunt it."

"Not much to see here." I tossed my other clothes into a heap on the floor by Scout's dresser. "Lot less skin than most people, being as short as I am…"

He laughed, pulling me into a hug, knuckling the top of my head. "Shh, don't think like dat."

"Ouch, damnit!" I cried out sleepily, rubbing my eyes. "Stop, I'm tired.. and we're getting up in a few hours…"

"Right, and I'm drivin…" He sighed, letting me pull away and climb up to my bunk. "Alright, sleep tight Pilly."

"Night night," I said before he turned out the lamp.


	9. The Aftermath

At _three in the goddamn morning_ , Scout and I were packed away and jumping into his truck again, waving to his mom at the end of the driveway, knowing Spy would be arriving later — probably right before the battle. Like, minutes before. He was always fashionably late.

To be fair to Scout, I had to stay awake on the ride back, helping him navigate the dark roads. We reached base by 3:55 without traffic, grateful that we still had time to sleep and get settled back in.

I'd brought the dress and shoes home with me, along with the instant pictures that Scout's mom had snapped throughout the night. As soon as she'd gotten home, she'd made copies for herself and found frames for them to reside in.

I was still in Scout's clothes as we jumped out of his truck and into the base again, tip-toeing back to our dorms so we didn't wake anyone up,

Sniper, of all people, was seated at the dining table, sipping at a mug of hot coffee and reading the newspaper with the light on.

"'Ey, love," Sniper said without even looking at me. I dropped my shopping bag of clothes at the door and trudged over to him.

"Hi, dad," I muttered, hugging him around his shoulders.

"'Ave fun?" he asked, kissing my cheek affectionately.

"Oodles," I replied, yawning. "I think I'm going back to bed, though…"

My dad guffawed. "Good idea, you sound exhausted."

"I'll tell you about it when I wake up," I said, leaving the kitchen and trudging my way to my room. Home, sweet home. I wasted no time in falling back asleep again until the real morning.

I woke up late. Really really late. I mean, it was like, 11am by the time I woke up, with a battle scheduled for 11:20.

I swore at myself, immediately rolling out of bed and pulling on my wrinkled clothes, checking my weapons and gearing up as quickly as possible. I stopped by the bathroom for a few minutes to wake up with cold water on my face through the angry tears as I hurried around to get ready. I ran downstairs, my backpack bouncing on my back as I rushed into the kitchen to grab a light breakfast. My head was already pounding from the panic.

I dashed to the front gate as the countdown sounded, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail and grasping the green apple between my teeth.

"Mornin', love," my dad cackled, clapping me on the back. "'Ave a nice nap?"

"Bastard," I hummed into the apple, inaudible for my dad to hear because of the gag. Bringing my hands back down, I chomped a bite out of my apple and plucked it from my mouth, wiping my lips as I chewed. "You're mean," I said louder, "you didn't even both to wake me up."

"I'm not your alarm clock, sheila," Sniper reasoned with a slight edge to his tone. "Ya bet'a eat that quick, while ya still got tha chance."

I paced around the base, furiously munching at my apple, ignoring everyone's stares as I ate, wide-eyed and waiting for the startle of the gates opening for us to set up. I finished my apple to a core and tossed it into the trash, wiping my mouth against with my arm. I looked down at my hands, nearly shrieking, realizing my hands were exposed, the blisters sensitive and swollen.

"Goddamnit," I said to myself, rummaging around in my backpack for a spare bandage or a glove of some sort. Finding none when the gates opened, I huffed in annoyance, sprinting out towards the opposite team, following after my dad.

We made our point where we always did, high up in a tower, close to the sun. My dad sat down on a crate as I loaded up my gun, readying for battle.

"So… y'gonna tell me about your day?" He asked, grinning as he sharpened his blade.

I huffed again, losing a bullet to the floor. "We drove into the city," I started, bending over to retrieve said bullet, "I met his family. We had lunch. We went back to his family. We went out to dinner, and —" I paused, realizing I forgot to tell him about the gun shop and the security-guard guys, both who'd wanted to make weird moves on me.

"Wot's wrong?" My dad asked.

"Uh.." I stammered, fiddling with the cartridge to the Machina, "the streets were really busy…" I tried to make the scenario explainable, knowing my dad's short temper when it came to my safety, "and…well… I got carried off into an alleyway, and—"

"YOU _WOT?!"_

"Because I got separated from Scout! The crowd swallowed him up and I was rushing through trying to find him because I'd stopped and stared at something and he didn't notice and" (I was speaking a mile a minute now) "then this weird guy popped up and picked me up and took me to an alleyway and wanted to 'mark me as his' he said and then there were others so I had to fight 'em off then Scout showed up and we had to run like hell and we got away, dad! I'm okay! But then we were able to get to his mom's shop and we made refuge there for awhile and then we went to this gun shop so he could pick up an order for BLU Scout and there were some weird perverts there who were trying to make moves because they wanted to make Scout jealous or something I guess, I don't know, and then—"

"BLOODY SPOOK!" Sniper shouted, standing up, shoving me out of the way and plunging his blade into the chest of the enemy Spy, who had snuck up behind me. I hadn't even realized the match had begun…

I tumbled to the floor, putting the scope to my face as I aimed for the Spy's head. I blasted it clear off to ensure his death.

"Damnit," Sniper mumbled, kicking the body off of his tower. "Sorry t'scare ya. You were gonna be a goner then I wouldn't 'ave gotten t'hear the end of tha story."

"Uh…" I stammered again, standing up, "well… long story short… weird shit happened and then the family and I went out to dinner and danced and played pool and had a few drinks and then Scout and I left the house at like 3am because we were too exhausted to leave and.."

"Wait, where…did you sleep?"

"Scout's room," I said casually, reloading my lost bullet.

 _"WOT?!"_

"Top bunk, dad, top bunk, it was a bunk bed," I explained quickly, "Jesus, dad, you need to stop jumping to conclusions!" I scolded him.

"Ah… so now you're the one scolding me, I see." He took aim at Tony, the BLU Scout, and blew his head off. "Wot's the BLU Scout like?"

"Fucking rude and sexist," I said without hesitating, taking aim at another BLU. "Spy is really nice, though. Our Spy. We danced."

"Oh, yeah?" Sniper chuckled, unbelieving.

"Mhm," I hummed, taking down the Medic. I heard the BLU Soldier swear something about a _'fucking pill.'_ That made me chortle. "How was your day, dad?"

He sighed. "Cleaned my van, cleaned my guns, went lookin' for ya then I forgot you left, y'even said goodbye."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, not your fault. I'm glad y'had fun. I know you can 'andle your own pretty well, anyway. I wasn't too worried."

"You seem awfully concerned now," I said quietly.

"Now that I know wot was goin' on. But you're 'ere now, I guess I can't complain."

I smirked, shouldering my gun again. "I'm gonna get a point closer to the payload," I said, headed for the ladder. "Wish me luck."

"'Luck," Sniper said, saluting me as I descended the ladder.

I hit the ground with a thud, my boots shifting over the loose piece of desert sand.

Scout's voice called out. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

I expected the BLU, but RED was striding up to me, grinning as he swung his gun on his finger and rested it on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Pilly. Time t'put your snipin' t'good use."

Scout took off running for the payload, with me hot on his heels. As we neared the explosions of Soldier's rocket launcher and Demo's bombs, I put the scope to my face, slowing down just a tad as I looked for a target.

I claimed the head of the Heavy, earning my team a chance to regain the favor of the battlefield. I ran off again, crouching behind a bush as I aimed through it, head-shooting the drunk Demoman, of course.

This became my strategy: Shoot and run. I was so small and learned to get quick on my feet that the only people who could ever really catch me were the spies and scouts. And.. Engies guns… but otherwise, the other classes had a hard time getting to me. I could even play offense with my SMG and dagger.

Something was off, today, though. The RED Team was having a tough time staying alive, letting the BLU team push the payload all the way to our checkpoint. It was nearing the end, and RED was getting discouraged.

I was at the cart — at the fucking cart — slicing the head off of BLU's Pyro again. I was literally _on the cart_ fighting off the BLUs, but they pushed the cart over with me still on.

Like everything was in slow motion, the BLUs paraded back, dancing and jiving to their own tunes, when I jumped off the payload, knowing that I could die for real, and gripped a damaged rail from the track that was hanging off the edge. I threw my gun to the land, yelling out for someone to help, which became practically silent as the payload exploded beneath me.

White noise… a ringing in my head and a hot, stabbing pain seized my entire body as the force and shock of the explosion beneath billowed upwards and forced me up with it, tossing me to the desert grounds, shaking the earth. My head spun like a broken merry-go-round as the ringing in my ears grew louder and louder, stars clouding my vision.

I couldn't move my body. My eyes fluttered closed as I reached out to claw at the desert dirt, coughing. The sun was still beating down restlessly, pounding into my damaged skin…

Medic picked me up. I remember that much. He cradled me in his arms like a child, his face concerned as he hurried over to the RED base entrance to get me the medical attention I needed.

"Woah, woah, woah," Scout called out as Medic rushed past him.

"Move, _schnell_!" Medic barked, shouldering his way through his teammates to get to the Medical Bay.

My eyes closed again, and my mind became blank.


	10. Takin' with Snipes

"Jesus Christ, damnit…"

"She's going to be fine. Go back to bed… I'm keeping an eye on her," the German persisted.

"Yeah, but you need sleep, too, doc.."

"I'm the only doctor able to keep her alive right now, Scout! Get out or you might ruin it for her!"

"Alright, alright, jeez… but.. she can't really die, right? Like, like… Respawn would bring 'er back, right?"

"No, I just got word that somezing happened to Respawn and it's shut down now. The Medigun, as vell. You see zees heart readers? They're too small. She's barely alive. She needs medical attention without interruption, Scout. Go tell her fazer, while you're getting out, zat he needs to rest assured zat she vill be okay."

"But she might not!" Scout piped with a squeak.

" _RAUS_ ," Medic bellowed angrily.

Scout exited quickly, fearing the wrath of the German. Pill's dad was standing at the door, an angry glare on his face.

"Respawn's down?"

"Uh…yeah, h-h-how'd you guess, sharp-shot?" Scout stammered, glancing away from the Aussie.

"I knew it was a bad idea t'let 'er go off again… she gets so confident so quickly, so eager to try out new things…" He sighed, collapsing against the wall and sliding down to the floor. "I knew it…"

"Woah, hey der, Snipes… she's gonna be okay, Medic's got it all handled. He always does."

Sniper waved his comment off, taking off his hat and bunching it in his fists nervously. "I 'ope she makes it out alright…"

"She will, she's tough," Scout persisted, shoving his hands into his pockets and sitting down across from Sniper.

"Why are you 'ere, anyway?" Sniper asked quietly, leaning the back of his head against the wall as he looked at Scout.

Scout blushed a bit, puffing out his upper lip, not wanting to answer honestly. "Uh..I..uh.. worried 'bout 'er… like any good friend.."

Sniper chuckled lightly. "Scout, it's written all ovah' yo'r face, ya mongrel…"

Scout blushed an even darker shade, burying his face in his hands. "Then, you know…"

"Y'think yo'r dad n'I don't talk at all?" He chuckled nervously again, twisting his hat. "Yeh… I know about your little.. crush on 'er. And.. truth be told, I don't think it's a good thin'."

Scout nodded. He knew. Oh, yes, he knew all too well that Sniper didn't like him much at all. He also knew that Sniper hated the idea of Scout having a crush on his daughter much, much less.

"But I can't stand in either of yo'r's ways… well, tha'is, if she makes it outta the lab okay…" Sniper sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "She's a big girl, too old for 'er father's control. But… all I gotta say is… if ya go through with it, know that if you break 'er 'eart… I'll break your legs."

Scout shivered, looking at Sniper through parted fingers. "Understood," Scout said. "I might be too pussy t'even ask 'er out, though… so… y'might not even gotta worry," Scout said hopefully, the idea of his best physical feature being snapped into two different pieces completely horrifying to even think about. "I won't stop being 'er friend, though."

Sniper nodded, fiddling with his hat some more. "She's tough. Kinda… scares off men, always 'as. So it was kidna surprisin' y'took a liking to 'er, y'know? Cuz… you are a little on the wimpy side…"

"Hey!" Scout protested, "No need to get personal here! And and I NOT wimpy!"

Sniper smirked. "Yo'r gonna 'ave t'prove it to tha sheila, then."

Scout's eyes got a little big, realizing what Sniper meant. "Well… she's a lot tougher than I am.." Scout stated slowly, "but she's not, like… rude about it… she's.." he thought, "smart, funny, pretty, tough and sensitive at the same time… with the whole, uh.. PTSD thing goin' on.."

Sniper nodded. "Yeh… but.. she still works through it all. 'Asn't needed a therapist yet, thankfully…"

Scout grinned, nodding. "Yeah… yeah, she is tough…" he stared up at the ceiling dreamily…


	11. Kidnapped

Medic swore in German very often. I wish I'd been able to understand, because I would've like to use his language a few more times so my dad didn't understand what I was saying sometimes.

He swore, looking at my heart rate monitor, slapping the thing to see if it was wrong. It wasn't. My eyes were open, but he hadn't noticed. My breathing stayed the same, grateful to be back in a bed.

"Medic," I said quietly, looking down at an IV in my arm, a red serum pumping through it, "Yo, Doc, I'm awake.."

He startled, looking down at me. "Ja… zat is good. A start, at least, but you von't be awake for long if your heart rate doesn't go up a bit more. Shake your head around or somezing, try to get your heart working…"

I lifted up my arm and bobbed my head back and forth, but slowly… for some reason, I was restricted to my movements. I felt like someone was weighing me down. "Medic, I can't…"

" _Sheisse_ ," Medic swore, biting his lower lip and feeling my pulse in my neck with his fingers. "Zis is really bad…"

I grunted, forcing myself to sit up as he pulled away. "I can survive, Doc… what's wrong with me?"

"Uh… the shock impact, liebling. It threw you up and gravity forced you down. I'm surprised you're not dead… but I do believe your shoulder is broken, which I can fix during the next battle…"

The stars danced around my eyes as I looked around, sitting up. "Could, uh.. Doc? Could I maybe.. get a drink?" I could feel half ofm y face covered in bandages but at least my mouth was still fully operational.

"Ja," Medic replied, handing me a glass of water.

" _Danke_ ," I replied with a grin.

Medic smirked back at me, rubbing the top of my head as he walked away to write information down on my papers. "Ah, good… maybe you're going to be fine after all," Medic said after observing the change in the monitor. "Zis thing always works so slowly… We need to upgrade."

I nodded, slowly pushing my legs over the side of the bed. "IV?" I asked, holding my arm out to him.

"Keep it in. You'll want it."

"What is it?" I asked.

"It numbs the pain you're feeling, which is why you probably feel like you're being weighed down. Want me to take it away, now?"

I nodded. I didn't like needles anywhere near me, even if they were medical.

"Very well.."

When he did, though, I wanted to cry. My shoulder throbbed in needle-like pain that coursed through my body, and Medic made me remove my medical gown so he could bandage the bone in its place until the next battle. He also threw my left arm in a sling to keep it in place. It felt better, but my cuts and bruises were still sore to the touch, the burns from the explosion radiating heat off my skin.

"Scout seemed very concerned about you," Medic mused, rolling the IV fluid away from my bed. I stretched my free arm up, grasping towards the ceiling, and stood up, covered only by my bandages and the cotton gown Medic had to dress me in in order to patch up my broken body.

"I'm sorry to worry anyone," I stated sarcastically.

"No, really, he vas. So is your fahder."

"So what? Happens to everyone, right?"

"Payload blowing up and giving us a near-death experience? No, frau, you ver ze only one stupid enough to try to save our score." He chuckled to himself, patting me on the head. "Want a wheel chair?"

It hurt to stand up, but the stars began fading as I paced around slowly, limping gingerly, bare feet slapping against the tile floor. Something was amiss in my right hip. I rubbed at it, looking away from the Medic. "No, I can't wheel it. And I'm NOT about to have someone like Scout or my dad help me until the next battle."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged. "Feel free to stay here for ze night or return to your dorm. I can let your visitors in to check on you — zey have been patiently waiting for some time, now."

I returned to the medical bed and pulled the curtain around the bed. I flopped onto the bed. "Send them in," I agreed.

"Very well," Medic sighed, his footsteps clapping to the door and opening it, muttering something inaudible to whoever was outside.

I reclined in my bed, easing off of my hip as best as possible as Sniper and Scout peeled back the curtain to see me.

"Oh, God," Scout gasped, peering over from behind Sniper's torso. Sniper proceeded to push back the curtain and pulled up a chair by my head.

"Ow ya feel?" My dad asked quietly, reaching out to take my hand.

I smirked over at him. "What? You though a little payload explosion was gonna take me out?" I squeezed his hand, gesturing to my left arm in a sling. "This hurts like a fucker," I retorted blandly. "And I can't walk very well, but Medic will fix me up as soon as we go to battle again, when the Über's up and ready." My smile faltered a tiny bit as I shifted my weight on my hip again.

Scout stalked in behind my dad, standing over him, gazing down at me. He looked pale and nervous, shifting between his feet behind the sharpshooter. "Are ya gonna make it until the mornin'?" He asked quietly.

"'Course," I said, giggling a tiny bit. "And until then, Medic will be here with me, right, Medic?" I asked, looking over at Medic, who had returned to his desk.

"Ja," he said, not turning back to look at us. "Unless one of you boys wants to stay here vith her.." He implied that he wanted to actually get a few z's tonight.

"I can," Scout piped up before my dad even opened his mouth. My dad looked up at him, concerned, but said nothing. Scout replied, "I've got BONK!, Sniper. Seriously, I can do dis."

"Alroight," Sniper sighed, standing up. He let go of my hand slowly. "Gnight, hun."

I smiled up at my dad hopefully. "Love ya, daddy."

He winked back at me for a reply, then quietly exited with the Medic.

I looked up at Scout, who looked down at me for a few moments before taking Sniper's seat at the head of my bed. "So, uh…" He said, staring at the bandages that held my body together, "do ya want anything?"

I smiled at my friend, reaching out to take his hand. "I really want you to grab my gun from my belt and either give it to me or keep it with you if you're going to sit by me all night…"

He nodded, standing. "Where are dey? Your shorts, I mean…"

"Should be under my bed in a box or something," I grunted, laying fully on my back again.

Just as Scout was reaching under my bed, the lights flickered, then completely shut off, leaving the two of us in darkness.

"Damnit," Scout chirped, rummaging around in the box in the complete dark, pulling out my weapons, as well as a bottle of red Über pills. "Hey hey hey!" Scout said triumphantly, "what you're named after!"

The pills glowed in their clear container, only about 14 left from handing them out to teammates during the day when Medic wasn't able to get to them.

"Gimme those, I nearly forgot about them!" I reached out, snatching the bottle from Scout, immediately popping a few, the smallest scratches and bruises healing up quickly. "It's a little creepy.. with being in the complete dark and all," I said, biting my lower lip.

"Hang on, I think Germany keeps an arsenal down here somewhere… Lemme borrow your pills, Pilly, they're gonna be my light source for awhile."

I handed him the pills and sat back nervously, looking towards the door and hearing foot steps. "Hurry up, Scout! I think I hear yelling…" Then we heart gunshots, screaming… Oh God, it was a warzone again. "Scout, hurry up!" I held onto my gun and left behind my knives, rolling out of the bed painfully.

"I'm comin', I got a rifle with a light! Here, you're the sharpshooter, Pilly!"

"I only have one hand, dumbass!" I whispered loudly, limping over to the door.

"Well.. I can't—"

"Yes, you fucking can!" I muttered in a low, harsh tone. "If I can limp around the base to get away, God, I can only hope it's the BLUs and not some other maniacs, then you can shoot a goddamn sniping rifle!" We crouched by the door, my hip pain much less severe after taking the pills. "But I can't wait in here, Scout — They might get me."

Voices echoed outside the Medical bay; Spy, my father, Medic, Heavy — everyone within the explosions and bullets echoing.

"Find the Pill!" A Soldier's voice boomed.

"Shit, they're on to me!" I hissed. "Get the door, Scout! Open it , damnit! I'll give 'em what they want! Jesus!"

"Pill, no—"

"Do it!" I barked, cocking my 45 mil.

In a rush, Scout fumbled over the door handle, but got it open on my order. Adorned in only my gown and bandages, I rushed out, taking my one-armed aim cautiously, following the explosions.

"DON'T DO IT, PILL!" I heard my dad's voice shout, "Pill, DON'T! —"

His cutoff was completed by a wacking noise.

"Pill, we can't!" Scout hissed at me, his flashlight moving through the pitch-black corridor, scanning the area. "At least… Here, you cover me, I'm goin' ahead."

"We go together," I insisted, nudging him with my slung-up elbow as the explosions ceased. I got annoyed with the sling as we began to near a corridor intersection, so I threw it off, agreeing to the slight annoying twang of hurt that moved in my shoulder.

"Pill, Scout…" Medic's voice rung out loud and clear, "Come to ze gates… and no one else gets hurt…"

"That's BLU," I recognized, moving to grip my gun with two hands, trying to ignore the cold desert air whisking through my cotton gown, moving up my legs. "They must have the others!"

"Pill, no!"

I began limping faster to the gate, desperate to do anything. Scout followed in quick succession, his beaming light on the sniping rifle guiding my way. We came to a corner near the gates, listening in on what the BLUs were saying to our fellow REDs.

"She's snarky," the BLU Scout sneered, "thinks she can do anythin'. I wouldn't be surprised if she tried t'kill us… but I doubt that payload explosion left her very..mobile." He chuckled, cocking his gun.

"Ve know you are hiding," The Medic yelled out, his footsteps coming towards us. "And ve 'ave your fahzer and ze Engineer and ze Medic, oh, look, ze Demoman… Dumpkoff… And ve 'ave men on every one of them, guns locked and loaded. If you step out… no one else gets hurt. Your fahzer is unconscious because of his lack od discipline… you should honestly train zat bushman…"

"Don't do it, Pill!" The Engineer yelled out, and was promptly beaten with a back, Scout jeering the entire time.

I cringed, looking back at Scout. I wanted to cry, wanted to run away… But my team needed me now more than ever.

"Scout," I whispered in his ear, "you need to shoot the guy with my dad, I'll take care of the guy with Demo and Medic and your brother…"

"Y'gonna kill 'em?"

"No, idiot, I'm just going to make him immobile," I growled, turning back to the BLU team's talking. "Alright," I said loudly, standing up and stepping out into the blue.

Shit. There were more than I'd expected. And they were all armed.. the REDs were disarmed, guns pointed at their heads by the BLUs. Scout and I couldn't go through with our plan if we wanted to keep our men alive…

"Ah.. ze infamous Pill…" The Medic mused, first looking back at his counterpart, the only captured RED still awake, then to me. "Drop your weapon, or ze Medic dies."

Medic's eyes got wide as he looked across the room to me, shaking his head, begging me to fight the BLU. I glared up at BLU, growling between my teeth, and dropped my precious, pink - camo pistol.

"What the hell do you want?" I hissed, clutching my shoulder as a sudden sting of pain erupted.

"Your life, your skills, your information, it's very simple. Ve… vant you, Pill."

His words were colder than his eyes, which bore into mine steadily, looking for signs of weakness and insecurity. Half of my face still bandages, I imagined I looked pretty fucked up.

"Zat payload didn't do you any favors, did it?"

"Back off, sister," I growled, taking a step towards him, standing up tall. "I'm not hurting."

"I suppose you wear zose bandages for fun?"

I gritted my teeth, clenching my fists. "Take what you came for, then, but leave the others unscathed, swine. I'll go with you, but you can't hurt my team."

BLU Medic leaned forward, his face inches from me. "Or…vat, may I ask?"

I looked down at my bare feet, ankles wrapped in bandages with the gown just barely touching mid-calf, swaying in the incoming breeze. It wasn't so cold anymore, but it was enough to make me wish I had pants on.

When I turned my eyes up to him again, I couldn't think of a good threat that I'd actually carry out, so I bluffed.

"You die," I said simply. "It's as easy as one bullet between the eyes, and I know exactly who's going to deliver it."

"Yourself, no doubt," the Medic cackled, gripping his fingers on my shoulder, squeezing until the blood surfaced to the bandages. I grunted, withering under his grasp, making any noises to make him think that I wasn't going to back down.

"Now, vile your attention is on me, listen to my vords. You vill come vith us, and you vill never see your friends again, understood? And you vill not complain at all. Got it?" He let go of my shoulder once I nodded, still growling rabidly at him.

As I nodded, the Soldier, Demoman, Scout, and Pyro standing behind the captured REDs began to back away, heading out of the broken-down gate. I began to follow them out, but I looked back, realizing the bodies were gone, now. My brow furrowed, I turned forward again, realizing our Heavy and Medic were sprinting towards the group of the BLUs, firing at will, Scout and Pyro advancing with them, injuring the BLUs in crazed havoc.

"Pill, run!" Scout shouted, beating his bat into his brother's knees.

I turned to run, my legs slow and unreliable. I should've known that would've happened. I found myself being scooped up into BLU Medic's arms, my torso over his shoulder as he gripped around my waist, shouting at the BLU Sniper to start up the van. Medic through me into the camper, locking the doors quickly. I landed with a hard thud, but rushed to the curtained window to see whatever I could.

RED Medic had BLU cornered, a syringe gun pressed to his neck, but the BLU Spy shot the Medic in my leg, causing him to writhe in pain, howling like a wolf as he collapsed.

"NO!" I screamed, pounding at the window, throwing myself against the sealed door in vain, screaming out to my team, screaming out in pain, stomping my foot angrily against the cold floor. This…van… was much more..empty… than my father's… It wasn't even really an RV — it was too empty. It was just… a van.

We drove for some time. After I'd given up on throwing myself against the walls, I hunkered down in a corner, back pressed against the conjoining walls as I talked myself through the dark journey. Through swerving streets and bumpy backroads, the van finally came to a jolting stop. When Medic and Sniper opened the van door to collect me, I didn't move.

"Come, Pill, your new home—"

"It will never be my home," I grunted, turning my aching back to the pair.

"Come out before I fill your stomach with my syringe gun," Medic threatened, clicking his gun into place behind my back.

Needles….

I slowly struggled to stand again, my legs wobbly from the nervousness. I trudged across the van to the Sniper and Medic, gagging at their faces and how closely they resembled my team… God, I hated them.

Sniper led the way while Medic followed, his gun pressed against my back. We marched into the BLU base and down many flights of stairs, earning me a light head and swooning body, where Medic threw me into a barred cell and stepped in with me, locking the door behind him.

From the ground, I glared up at the teetering Medic, eyes damp with forming tears, tears I refused to let fall. I growled like a dog plagued with rabies, rolling onto my side and sitting up.

"What the hell do you want…"

"Now, vith you gone from ze RED team, ze teams are balanced and fair… no more cheating. No more advantages for zem… it's our turn now.."

I rolled my eyes.

"Is someone being a baby?" I asked, "Crying over not having an extra player? Oh, what a sob story…" I snapped quickly after that statement of sarcasm, "Well that's fucking life, you German sausage!"

"Oh, you're going to vish you never said zat…"

Medic raised up a bone saw and a bat, poised for action. I instinctively flinched, unprepared to take the undeserved beating.


	12. Breaking In

Everyone's eyes were on Sniper, including the Scout's. He was terrified for how the Bushman would react to being told his only daughter got taken away from him and could possibly be dead. Sniper's entire being crumbled, turning quickly into a raging beast who wanted nothing more than to kill each and every one of the enemy BLU soldiers.

"We… we gotta get 'er back.. We gotta…"

Being confined to the small Medical lab, Sniper beat his fist against the tiled wall and screamed into it. Medic had quickly ushered everyone out except for Scout, who stood awkwardly in a corner, as far away from Sniper as possible. But, what Scout couldn't comprehend was the crying the entire team was doing, heartbroken that they let Sniper have to fall to such a state and upset that their youngest member was taken away brutally.

"C'mon, sharp-eye," Scout said quietly, walking over to the sobbing Sniper. He, for one time in his life, needed to be the strong one in the pair. He laid a hand on Sniper's shoulder, expecting Sniper to lash out and take him down with one blow. "We'll get 'er back, safe 'n sound… But we gotta have a plan… an', an' we gotta be in the right mind about it, yeah?"

Sniper flinched under Scout's touch, but relaxed in a few seconds, nodding at his words ans tanding up, wiping his eyes roughly. "Where th'team?"

In the dining room, the rest of the team began to draw out blueprints for a plan…

"Doctor, where is Invisible Man?" Heavy asked the Medic loudly.

That's when the team fell into silence, looking around the room for their missing companion.

"Where's the bloody spook?" Sniper asked quietly, repeating Heavy's question.

"You don't s'pose..?" Engie's voice fell away in a quiet horror.

"No, they couldn't have," Demo reasoned, "'e's too quick for that rabid Medic!"

Scout paced quickly, beating his bat against his palm in frustration. "Damnit… dis is gettin' us no where! Who are we focused on?"

"Pill, right now," Engie piped up. "Alrighty, boys…" He was interrupted by a phone ringing, so he went to answer it, the caller ID stating that it was the BLU base. "What in sam-hill do you want?"

"Put it on speaker!"

So Engie put the call on speaker phone, and let the phone piece hang on its cork-screw cord to bob against the wall.

"Hello, mein enemies…" The Medic's voice made their skill crawl. "Ve have your precious little darling… ze Pill, you call her. Vell… She is not yours anymore! She will stayed locked up here until further notice, and if you try to break in to save her, you vill kill her. Have a pleasant night, dumpkoffs. Hey! Soldier! BLOW HIM UP, VAT ARE YOU VAITING FOR?! GET HIM!"

Engie hung up the phone once the Medic had clicked off, surprised at the obscure ending.

"Well…" Heavy sighed, looking at his tired Medic, "what now?" He asked the congregation.

The eyes turned to Sniper again, who had tears swelling in his eyes again. "Damnit, " he muttered, slamming his fist against the wooden table. "'Ow could we let this 'appen?! I'm such an awful dad…"

"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself, partner…" Engie placed a hand on Sniper's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "No one could'a predicted this…"

Soldier placed his helmet on the table, a gesture he hadn't accomplished in some time. "I'll bet Frenchie is with her right now. That's probably what they were yelling about…"

The RED team, unable to think of a proper way to attack the problem at hand, retreated for the night, only to awake to the same problem in the morning. Many tactics were tried, before and after battles, and the RED Spy never showed up. Sniper kept himself awake with many mugs of coffee, mapping out a million and one battle plans to use against them, but they found it impossible to break into the fort unnoticed without the Spy to sneak in and take one out silently. Scout could hardly ever sleep from worry, and Spy beat himself up for not doing more to save her. Medic swore constantly to himself for leaving her with only the Scout, and the rest didn't know why they were beating themselves up, but each member blamed themselves. RED team lost many battles because of their lack of sleep from the grief they all shared in, clumsiness ruling over them like a bad habit.

Taunt kills, gang attacks, ruthless jeering from the BLU team made it so rough on the REDs.

One day, Scout had enough.

Without notifying his team, he took off, ready to take on the entirety of the BLUs. He took Pill's pistol with him, just in case she would need a weapon, and loaded his bag with his Scattergun, pistol, bat, and a sniping rifle, one with a silencer on it. He dressed himself in the most black he could find, making himself invisible in the night. Hooded and masked, Scout headed out for the BLU team.

Reaching the base wasn't a problem — cardio was his specialty — but getting in was another story… Surveillance cameras were set up all around, as well as laser detecters. Busting through them was a tough time, but Scout somehow made it through them, shooting down surveillance cameras like a boss.

Scout was tipptoeing down to the basement, quieter than ever, when he heard the cellar door swing open.

"I know you are zer, dumpkoff…" Medic mused cynically, beginning to step down the spiral staircase.

Scout swore in his mind and took off down the stairs, quickly stumbling upon the cell with Pill in it, who sat against the wall. Her arms were twisted up painfully into a tie against the wall, her head bowed to her chest so her hair covered her face. She still wore all over her old bandages, as well as a few new ones, her gown coated in blood that Scout was sure was her own. She looked awful…

"Shit, gotta hide, gotta hide…" He muttered, running away from the cell quickly as Medic ran with a pistol to find him, shouting for him.


	13. You'll See Me Again

I perked my head up at the new noises, thrilled to see the Medic dashing after someone. Finally, I was getting some action down here! Better still, I thought it was the Scout I'd heard muttering to himself. I was beyond excited.

"Yo, Doc!" I shouted, using Scout's voice.

Medic stopped, turning to face me. "Vat?" He asked, confused as ever hell.

I giggled, giving him my creepiest smile ever with my hair dancing around my face. "I need some healing~"

"Shut up!" Medic barked. I made my face very pouty at his demand, but shut my mouth.

In a few minutes, the Pyro marched in with Scout in cuffs, quickly breaking into my cell with an axe, letting the door swing open. Medic marched in behind him, clutching his pistol tightly.

They made Scout kneel in front of the door with the Pyro behind him, making Scout take in my appearance before speaking. Scout frowned, closing his eyes tightly and biting his lip harshly as he looked at the ground, ashamed.

Medic aimed the gun at my face, looking at Scout. "See vat you have done?"

"Medic!" I shouted, growling with a sense of insanity, "You… have to be the one… to tell my team, if he has to watch it," I said. _They're gonna fuckin' kill you_.

Medic frowned, lowering the gun slowly. "…very well…" He said quietly. _I vill be armed_. "Actually…" He said thoughtfully, looking at Scout. "I have a better idea."

"Yeah, well will you at least let my arms down first? You promised I could at least fall over dramatically when I died," I pouted, "plus I have an itch."

Medic made a disgusted face. "Pyro, her bonds."

Medic grabbed Scout by the collar of his shirt while Pyro cut me free. I reached into my bandages on my chest to itch my left breast. I quickly clasped my hands together and looked up intently as the Medic was describing to the Scout.

He held the gun to Scout's face. "You vill shoot her."

"What?" Scout exclaimed, astonished. "No fucking way."

"Either you do it… or we leak the video of your team, and kill them, and leave the Spy in the spotlight to blame," he hissed into his ear, handing him the pistol. Medic clicked another gun to the back of Scout's head, ensuring he made the proper choice.

"Can I… say a few things to 'er..?"

"Go ahead."

Scout looked at me, tears swelling in his eyes. "Pill, I…"

"It's okay, Scout," I smiled, not moving my hands from their position. "And.. your dad's in the next cell over. Chances are, when all this is over, they'll let him free! Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, yeah… oh, damnit, Pill…" Scout sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hands. "You always look on the bright side… I can't leave your dad like that.. I'm sorry… I just…"

"It's okay, Scout," I repeated earnestly, smiling at him. "I understand… they're your team. They're your family. It's really… okay… I've had my time. I've had a fun life, to be honest. But now, I can see my mom.."

Scout sniffled again, wiping his eyes. "Yeah… I just… needed to tell you…" He glanced back at the Medic, who frowned at him. "I know we got off to a rough start.."

"No, really?"

"Shut up! I'm tryna be sentimental here… I'm gonna kill you… God.. _I'm_ going to kill you…" He nearly broke down, but he held himself. "When we started gettin' t'know each other… I liked you, Pill… I talked to my dad about it, I talked to yours… I couldn't.. couldn't get the balls to tell you… I'm sorry.."

"It's okay, Scout."

"No, it's not! I'm not fuckin' man enough t'have you! I don't deserve you, Pill! You're so badass, so forgiving, so strong… and.. I'm weak… See? I'm crying right now… But.. I-I-I... Pill… And.. I'm gonna miss ya.."

I smiled at him again, tilting my head, refusing to let any tears fall again. I couldn't. I couldn't show the BLUs I had weaknesses. The Pyro moved to stand next to the Medic, and I could tell that Pyro wanted nothing more than to take Scout's responsibility away.

"I love ya… I really do… Honest.. And I know I fuck up a lot, but.. that night we were at the country club with my family.. I think I really fell in love with you, then. But I didn't realize it that much... When you walked down the stairs in your black dress and my mom's makeup and you were jus' shinin' like the brightest star in the goddamn sky… And then you were smilin' and dancin' with my dad, and playin' pool against my brother an' we were talking about boats or somethin' and looking out at the water, and you weren't afraid to kill people on the battle field, you're one hell of a shot… and.." The waterworks were really running now, "I didn't realize it was love until now."

I was stunned speechless. Yeah, I figured he'd had a thing for me, but we were friends first and foremost. Good friends. He never went beyond that, I thought. I admired him. I'd loved him as a friend, loved his personality, enjoyed him as a person, made jokes, respected him… But… love? I didn't think Scout ever thought like that. He'd been around me enough to figure me out, realize how disgusting I really was, and when I thought his 'fling' for me had subsided, I relaxed a bit more.

"I never knew that," I breathed, letting a single tear streak down my face. I had to keep up an act to make Medic think I was actually going to die. "But, Scout… I wish I'd known… even a few nights ago… I though when we were drunk, we both knew what was going on, but… Wow, you must have… really enjoyed that, then…"

He nodded, wiping his tears. "Yeah.."

"But… how do you know you love me?"

He bit his lower lip and looked at the Medic behind him, then to me. "Right here and now, I would rather shoot myself to save you… that's how I know."

He held the gun up to my forehead with both hands and looked away.

"I'm sorry, Pill…"

"Scout," I said quickly, before he fired. "Scout, it's okay… don't be sorry..You can do it... you'll see me again."

Scout closed his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry…"

And he pulled the trigger.


	14. Winning

I clicked the Dead Ringer at the precise moment the bullet shattered my skull and tore through my brain, leaving my fake corpse in a dramatic heap on the floor. I only had a few seconds to get away where no one would hear me uncloak again.

Spy had snuck the contraption to me when they locked him up. I quickly rushed through the door and down the hallway, into a custodian closet before I uncloaked, kissing the device three times in gratefulness. I wanted to cry, I was so happy to be alive! So happy to be out of the cage they had for me! Just so grateful!

I heard a cell door swing open, then Spy yelled a dramatic phrase, "Stupid boy! You didn't tell her sooner?" Then he directed his statement to the Medic (I looked through the crack in the door), "What ze fuck 'ave you done to my team?!"

Medic slapped him straight across the face, then held the gun to his jaw. "Shut up, dumpkoff."

I watched the Spy, Scout, Pyro, and Medic disappear from sight, then slipped out of my closet, sprinted down the hallway, passed my old cell, and followed the quartet up the staircase.

I had no problem sneaking around silently. I stole a knife and revolver from the sleeping Spy in his quarters and held the Dead Ringer for myself, poised to click it at any time. The base was exactly like the RED base, just with more security issues. The Medic thrust Scout and Spy out of the door, throwing them to the ground. Scout had been stripped of his weapons, I noticed, and left in only a t-shirt and boxers in an attempted to make it more humiliating for him.

I marched up right behind the Medic, and as he closed the door an turned around, I put the barrel of my pistol right between his eyes. "You were right," I said quietly, just so he could hear, "I will be the one to put the bullet between your eyes."

I fired and moved around his corpse without even looking down at him.

I slipped through the door unnoticed and let my bare feet hit the rough desert ground. The adrenaline rush kept me numb. I followed Spy and Scout in quick succession, my footsteps silent as I sprinted on the balls of my feet.

"Don't be so 'ard on yourself, son," Spy sighed, hugging Scout across the shoulders, "it was ze right choice."

"I just… wish I could'a done somethin' more…"

I didn't know when to show myself. I figured that Scout would pass out if he saw me, so I thought I'd better lay low for now. Still, I was giddy and excited to be completely free again, breathing in the dark desert air and letting it whip through my hair like a flag.

We returned to the base, Scout and Spy calling down the rest of the RED team for a meeting in the dining room again.

Perfect, I thought to myself. I hid out in a closet until they were all in the dining room.

"Spy!"

Everyone was happy to see him returned safely back to the base, but knew the worst was coming for news of me…

"Everyone," Scout began, choking back tears. I snickered to myself. "Everyone," Scout continued, "Pill… is.. dead… I… had to watch her… in fact, I was the one.. I had… to shoot her… t'save you all… t'save my dad and family… t'save you guys, my team…" He began sobbing. "I didn't want to, Sniper, I swear! They didn't give me another choice! I had to!"

Sniper's shoulders began heaving with his sobs. Man, my dad looked so damn drained from all the worrying… I felt bad for letting them suffer.

So I stepped into the room. No one noticed at first, because they were all trying to comfort each other while they cried. Even Spy was sobbing. I guess he thought I didn't know how to use the Dead Ringer.

"Guys," I called out, slapping the table. It stung. I shouldn't have done that. "I'm right here, it's all good."

Chaos. That was the room in the next few seconds. They all erupted into a million questions a minute, my father embraced me tightly, then Scout. I answered all of their questions with one gesture — I held up the Dead Ringer that Spy had dropped for me.

They fell silent, awing over the smart move. I walked over and hugged the Spy. "Thank you, Spy," I said quietly, "for saving me."

Spy smiled at me, and then my dad, wiping a tear as he addressed my father. "From one parent to another… I just did what your father would've done."

Many hugs and laughter and patching-up wounds led me to my room, where Sniper, Spy, Medic, and Scout all hung around to make sure I made it to bed alright. Engineer contacted the Administrator and Pauling, and informed me that the BLUs would be taken care of pronto, and replaced by sunshine. Until further notice, we were on a ceasefire.

Why they couldn't call them before, I asked. But Engie informed me that they didn't know that BLU had Spy, so they couldn't file a complaint for only me because I wasn't technically a piece of the team. Once they found out that Spy had been taken, though, they could file a complaint. RED was always believed over BLU, anyway.

Medic left soon, finally finishing bandaging my wounds, and Sniper left after him, kissing me on the forehead goodnight before camping outside of my dorm. Spy left after, patting my head softly. Scout and I were left in my room.

I laid on my bed, head propped up by, like, five pillows as I looked at Scout.

"Well," he said, shrugging slightly, "say what you're gonna say… 'Bout me bein' a freakin' wuss and everything.."

"Nah," I said, reaching over for his hand. "You're very brave…" I gripped his hand lightly, pulling him over to me. "I was just surprised."

He smirked lightly, moving a few strands of hair away from my face. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"I promise," he said quietly, "I'll never let that happen to you again…"

I grinned up at him, tugging on his hand. "I'll try my best to do the same for you," I breathed.

He placed his other hand on my cheek, then leaned over, and placed his lips against mine. He was ginger and shy at first, , barely making contact with my lips, but he pressed in quickly, diving deep. I wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled his closely to me, my heart racing at the sensation of his slick lips against mine for the first conscious time.

We both smiled into it, knowing we won. We won against the BLUs. We won each other. We won that kiss. And when he pulled away slowly, I realized how lucky I was to win such a prize.


End file.
